Page 166 of A Reign of Chromes & Shadows

“She’s become pretty annoying, actually.”

Snow leaned forward, intrigued.

“She’s no longer fearful of her power? And how is that annoying?”

Rain chuckled, shaking his head.

“Oh no—her confidence is brilliant. Not an ounce of fear left. It’s just that now, since her vision, they all insist on calling me Rainbow King. There’s no convincing them otherwise.”

Chapter 46

Heavy footsteps pounded against the blue-and-gold veined marble floors as Rain strode down the palace corridors. The sound echoed sharply, a steady drumbeat of purpose and irritation. He had awoken to Snow’s worried expression; the king had summoned the council to court without explanation.

Rain, as usual, had not been invited.

His father had stopped extending invitations the moment Rain began voicing his own opinions; especially when those opinions challenged the king’s authority in front of others. Azrien preferred a silent heir, a compliant shadow. Rain had never been either.

But the lack of invitation only strengthened his resolve.

He would attend.

He would be heard.

The southern Red territory; the land their kingdom had invaded, weighed heavily on his mind. It was the next matter he intended to address. With the council gathered, this was the perfect opportunity to force the issue into the open. If he confronted it publicly, Azrien wouldn’t be able to dismiss him or twist the narrative behind closed doors.

This would be Rain’s first act as the future Red King; treating all citizens of the realm as his own, stepping into the role the Gods had carved for him.

He had been patient, watching from the shadows as council members and military officers arrived. The presence of the army confirmed his suspicion: his father intended to discuss the same matter. Good. Rain would meet him head-on.

He waited until everyone was settled before making his way to the conference hall. Ivy had taught him long ago: a good entrance sets the tone you wish to achieve.

Rain reached the foyer just outside the hall. The grand doors were already shut; the meeting underway. Servants bustled about, clearing the remnants of their preparations. Half-emptied carts of bottled water lined the corridor, evidence of the distinguished guests now gathered inside.

A young servant approached, bowing deeply before opening the door for him. Rain nodded in appreciation, offering a brief, kind smile. Then he straightened, letting his expression harden into one of cool, commanding confidence.

The doors swung open with a noisy clang, deliberately interrupting the king’s introduction.

Every head turned.

Rain strode forward with unhurried purpose, passing rows of council members without sparing them a glance. His gaze remained fixed ahead, posture tall, steps steady.

Normally, he would have taken his place beside Snow at the front. But his mother was absent; as he’d expected. And Rain had no intention of sitting quietly today.

Instead, he stepped boldly onto the podium and took the empty seat beside the king.

Azrien’s face twisted in horror.

Rain leaned back casually, draping his arm over the right armrest, settling in as though he belonged there because he did. Shock rippledthrough the room. Outrage. Fascination. Fear. Every pair of eyes followed him.

“Please, do continue,” Rain said lightly. “I’m sure I haven’t missed anything of importance.”

He flicked his wrist dismissively, as though brushing away a minor inconvenience.

Azrien’s jaw clenched. His posture remained rigid, but anger simmered beneath the surface, barely contained. The tension in the chamber thickened, the air heavy with the weight of Rain’s audacity. The council had never witnessed such open defiance; though the soldiers had seen it many times.

At last, Azrien forced a strained smile.

“How generous of you to join us, Rain,” he said smoothly, still refusing to look at him. “One would think the crowned prince might show respect before barging into council, but no, my son must always find the most dramatic ways to interrupt.”