Kingdom’s Bloodline
Chapter 617: Legends and Thrones

Thales wandered alone through the echoing corridors of the Renaissance Palace. The Everlasting Lamps, lining the corridor, danced past him, playing with the shadows on his face.

Onlookers, be they guards or servants, catching sight of him, wore expressions ranging from curiosity to blunt avoidance.

Yet Thales did not pay them any mind.

He just kept walking, stepping on a tile, dragging his feet along, stepping again, and over and over.

Up ahead was darkness, a chill in the air, and a narrow passage.

And where was he going?

Where should he even go?

Where?

“Your Highness?”

A familiar voice cut through the quiet, prompting Thales to halt.

Turning, he stepped out of the darkness and cold, a gentle smile on his face as he nodded.

“Gilbert, I thought you left earlier.”

The Foreign Affairs Minister walked up to Thales, leaning on his cane, and gave the Prince a respectful, precise bow—almost like they were meeting for the first time.1

“Your Highness know, I would not go anywhere,” he began.

Gilbert gazed at him, relief and a trance of confusion in his words. “Not before... you and His Majesty.”

Thales stayed quiet, just offering a slight smile.

Their eyes connected in the air—one with complex emotions, the other picking on the subtleties.

Three seconds of silent understanding passed.

Beside Gilbert, Guy Stylia Nydis, the Vicar General of Sunset Church, smiled knowingly and tactfully took a step back, giving them space.

After an apologetic smile to his friend, Gilbert then turned back to Thales, cautiously asking, “So,

His Majesty...?”

Thales nodded, his voice flat. “He let me go.”

“Just like that?” Gilbert looked a bit surprised. “Forgive me for being blunt, but His Majesty, he didn’t... didn’t he, the Royal Guards didn’t...”

“No.”

Thales tried his best to soften the edge of his words,

“I guess His Majesty is all forgiving and fatherly, treating his heir like any other citizen.”

They both fell into a thoughtful silence for a moment.

“Is that so?” Gilbert did not seem particularly bothered by the slight slip in Thales’ words, sighing with a distracted mutter, “Well, that’s good, that’s good...”

Thales kept quiet.

Suddenly, it felt like, to him, the Cunning Fox of Constellation had aged quite a bit.

But then, the memory of Gilbert calmly driving a carriage with a lamp and bringing in that dirty, pitiful child beggar to Mindis Hall felt like it happened just yesterday.

“Oh, speaking of which,” Gilbert brought the conversation back, smiling again.

“While you were having a heart-to-heart with His Majesty, I felt a bit stuffy, so I went on a walk outside the palace and happened to end up near Mindis Hall. I just took a look around and casually asked...”

Mindis Hall

Thales’ thoughts stirred, and he opened his mouth in surprise, “Gilbert...”

The smile on Gilbert’s face widened, matching his wrinkles.

“Flag Bearer Jayden, who was handling the investigation, assured me: After a thorough inquiry, the unpleasant hiccup at the banquet was just an accident, and your guards and servants were all in the clear and should be let go. Mindis Hall should be unsealed right away—though, of course, with some ‘extra security measures’. Hope you do not mind.”

Thales stared at him, surprised.

“Mindis Hall is not within walking distance from here,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” the Cunning Fox of Constellation replied, unruffled. “Guess I am not that old yet; my legs can still carry me around pretty quickly.”

Thales did not say anything.

Gilbert suddenly thought of something, his eyes lighting up.

“Oh, by the way, I also just bumped into Vanguard Marigo in the corridor, and he was with your men—the ones who followed you to the palace, including Wya. I asked around, too, and he’s, uh, getting along well with them, having a nice chat.” having a nice chat

Thales fell into a long silence, his emotions all over the place.

“Thank you.”

Gilbert shook his head, his smile unchanged, as he looked behind him.

“Thank Guy. I didn’t really want to say it, but I am grateful that people still believe in the holiness and majesty of the Sunset Goddess, showing extra respect to the vicar general.”

At that moment, Thales felt a tightness in his chest.

“Gilbert.”

The Foreign Affairs Minister turned around, sighing.

“And that, I hope, will put your highness’ mind at ease.” Thales took a deep breath, only to feel his voice shake.

"I, I..."

However, Gilbert, usually sharp at picking up on social cues, seemed oblivious to the Prince’s distress and hesitation; he just clapped his hands and said apologetically,2

“Oh, my apologies, Your Highness. You must be exhausted. It just so happens that I have called for a carriage, so why do not we go back together—” “Gilbert!”

Thales had to raise his voice, putting all his strength into cutting him off.

“Aren’t you curious?”

The Prince’s breath quickened as he stared intensely at his mentor.

“About why I barged into the palace against the ban,

Why I... defied the King.”

Gilbert paused. The smile on his face slowly faded, and he lowered his head in silence, as if avoiding Thales’ gaze.

Thales took a deep breath.

“As well as what I just said in there, to His Majesty.”

“This is not a joke.”

In the Ballard Room, Thales listened quietly to King Kessel’s words.

“Success or failure, one wrong step, a small mistake, and you might find yourself thrown off the warhorse, left behind by the chariot.

“Not only will the crown be forever out of your reach, you will make enemies everywhere.

Hostility at every turn. Your life and reputation in constant danger.”

enemies everywhere... constant danger...

The King’s warning could not have been clearer.3

“When that time comes, the Jadestar Family’s nobility will not be able to save you.

“The vastness of Constellation will not have room for you.

“Even with the exalted status of a king...” King Kessel paused, glancing at the Constellation Staff by the chair, his expression complex,

“... will not be enough to protect you.”

even with the exalted status of a king will not be enough to protect you

Thales’ gaze hardened, Asda’s words ringing in his ears:

“Thales, what I am looking forward to is not your ultimate success... Instead... between your own nature and the views of others... Ultimately, you will be torn by contradictions, destroyed by conflict, and devoured by regret. ”4

“So, hypothetically—I mean, just throwing it out there...”

After a few seconds, the teenager lifted his gaze, his smile somewhat strained.

“What do you think? What’s the odds of the Dragon Clouds City actually taking me in for political asylum?”

To the joke, King Kessel offered no response, only a deep gaze, revealing nothing of his thoughts.

“All right.”

Finally, the young man sighed, dropping the playful expression from his face and the lightness of his tone,

“Guess jokes aren’t exactly your thing, huh?”

The King observed him in silence.

As night set in, the lights dimmed.

Two shadows stood facing each other, their forms stretching across the stone floor and reaching the walls. A darkness that felt deep and chilly.

An abyss without end.

“So, for my sake, Your Majesty.”

The Prince grunted softly, eyes on the spoon in his hand.

“I am asking you, please stay healthy and live a long life.”5

A glint appeared in King Kessel’s eyes.

“At least stick around for the whole act. Don’t bail out halfway; leave me hanging on stage with no way to explain.”6

In that moment, Thales looked at King Kessel but flashed back to King Nuven.

And his decapitated head rolling in a pool of blood.

“Trust me, taking the last bow on your own,” Thales added with a shiver in his voice,7

“is not that pleasant.”

Kessel just stayed quiet.

Perhaps because the night had grown deeper and the room’s lights softened.

The interplay of light and shadow between them was no longer as sharp as crossed swords but rather a cohesive blend of brightness and darkness.

“You know,” King Kessel suddenly spoke up, “You could have done otherwise.”

Thales’ gaze flickered.

“Behave yourself, go by the book, show no stance, avoid unnecessary conflicts, nor act on impulse and as appallingly as you did at the banquet and today.8

“Then, you could have worn the Nine-Pointed Star royal crown and ruled the entire Kingdom...” The Iron Hand King said softly,

“It was only a matter of time.”

Nine-Pointed Star royal crown

Thales held his breath.

The phrase felt magical, lingering in the air, seeping into Thales’ mind, and growing into persistent thoughts.

“By then, the entire Constellation would be under your rule.”

the entire Constellation, under your rule...

The King’s voice was deep and lingering, carrying an indescribable weight.

The teenager tightened his grip on the spoon.

“Too late,” Thales shook his head, dismissing thoughts he shouldn’t entertain.

“I openly violated the prohibition and stormed into the palace for all to bear witness. Now, thinking of going back and trying to show a picture-perfect family with a loving father and dutiful son? It’s already too late.”

The King simply waved it off.

“Doesn’t matter...”

Thales shook his head. “No, and what if the Kingdom crumbles before my coronation. King Kessel’s voice drowned out his concerns, “Doesn ’t matter! ”

King Kessel the Fifth leaned forward, his authority striking.

“What matters is that, at that point, you are no longer constrained; no holds barred.”

“You can overturn the old order, right the wrongs, shift all blame onto the Iron Hand King, use my mistakes to strengthen your rule, and showcase your benevolence in contrast to my tyranny, just like the ‘Wise King’ after the ‘Red King.’”9 Thales felt his breath hasten.

“Then, piece the Kingdom together into what you want.” The King’s words held temptation.

“The fate of Constellation, all within your thoughts.

“Act as you wish, as you will.”

no longer constrained, no holds barred

act as you wish...

Thales swallowed hard.

In a trance, he once again saw the young man with the crown facing the towering palace wall alone. That familiar yet unfamiliar figure.

But this time, the young man stood behind King Kessel, adorned in rich robes, radiating extraordinary grace.

As if studying a chessboard, he gazed down at the countless lives outside the capital through the window, calm and indifferent.

Thales felt a jolt in his chest.

“But, but...” He struggled to voice his thoughts.

In the heavy silence, King Kessel’s voice gently reached Thales’ ears.

“When I was a child, my mother used to say...”

“There’s only two places where the imperial bloodline can shine as brilliantly as gilt and hold its endless majesty.”

brilliantly as gilt, endless majesty

King Kessel slowly lifted his gaze, fixing it on the portraits of eminent ministers in the softly lit Ballard Room.

“Legends.”

Even in the dim light, the historical figures in the portraits retained their vividness, their gazes piercing through the shadows.

Never fading.

Never wavering.

Thales pressed his lips together.

The Iron Hand King lowered his head, absentmindedly tapping on his chair.

“The throne.”

Night winds swept along the windowsill, making the Everlasting flames in the room flicker, tilting in the same direction.

Neat and orderly.

No exceptions.

Thales held his breath.

“Four hundred and fifty years ago, the ‘Alien Star’ who dared to question the Church’s scriptures became a legend.”

“The King of Ascension ruled over Constellation, sitting on the throne.”

In the chilly wind, the King’s gaze met Thales’, his tone detached.

“Which one do you choose?”

“I, I understand, Your Highness,” Gilbert said, closing his eyes with a tired ease, as if the simple act demanded every ounce of energy from his body.

Thales raised an eyebrow, “Really? You understand?”

With a drawn-out sigh, Gilbert nodded. “Yes.”

When he opened his eyes again, there was a weariness that had not been there before.

“Be it at the royal banquet or the investigation at Mindis Hall afterward, you, Your Highness, being young and spirited, it was only natural for you to feel indignant when treated unfairly.” young and spirited... indignant when treated unfairly

Thales absorbed the words in silence, unconsciously tightening his fists.

‘Was this the true motive behind Gilbert’s actions today?’

Gilbert strained to wear a smile, “Clearly, in your six years at Dragon Clouds City, you have grown accustomed to the ways of the Northlanders. So, when you entered the palace in such... Ha, I understand. Been there myself. The first time I met King Nuven almost had me leaping off the fortress wall... Northlanders, the way they express their opinions is always, hmm, very memorable.”

Thales stayed silent.

Yet, the Foreign Affairs Minister looked at him warmly and kindly, as if ready to embrace all his boldness and recklessness.

“Gilbert,” the Prince said lightly, “this morning, despite the mess I caused, I somehow made it to this day’s Imperial Conference’s table without completely embarrassing myself.

“I heard from my father that it was because of your advice and persistence?”

Gilbert paused for a moment, then sighed with a smile,

“You know, when 1 woke up this morning, I thought nothing could be worse than a hangover— until I heard the news about your bold move at last night’s royal banquet.”

He sighed again and continued, “Your Highness, I just felt that if there were any misunderstanding between you and His Majesty, there was no better way to clear it up than in person.”

“And if you want to explain the banquet incident to His Majesty, showing up during the Imperial Conference in front of all the other dignitaries first could more or less be of some help to you.” Thales kept quiet for a while before managing to say, “Thank you.

“Teacher.

“For... all of this.”

Gilbert smiled contentedly, waving it off.

“It’s all in a day’s work, nothing worth mentioning.”

Thales felt conflicted.

He had initially intended to end the conversation and leave as soon as possible but could not help adding, "But you know, Gilbert, my actions today have consequences.” Gilbert hesitated for a moment.

“No, just hear me out, Your Highness,” the Foreign Affairs Minister said, taking a deep breath and offering a smile.

“Prince Thales, with his heart set on freedom, resisting his arranged marriage, and going after true love—storming into the palace and interrupting the Imperial Conference—it’s like a plot from a classic love story people would cheer for. It’s romantic, bold, and fits perfectly with your experiences in the North.”10

He looked earnestly at Thales.

“Everyone, and I mean everyone, will understand.”

Thales frowned. “But that’s not what I was trying to say—”

Gilbert chuckled, raising his hand to hush his words,

“But it would not be wise to use that Lady of Blazing Blood as a cover, as it might not leave, well, a good impression, especially after she led the Northlanders to a great victory...” Thales’s frown deepened.

“Gilbert, you know I openly barged into the palace, practically committing treason—”

“Your Highness!”

The usually gentle Gilbert suddenly raised his voice, cutting him off.

This took Thales by surprise.

Gilbert paused, taking a few deep breaths to ease his tense expression.

“I must admit, I did not consider it earlier.” Gilbert managed a faint smile.

“It’s been six years—whether it’s you, me. Eternal Star City, or even His Majesty—we all need time to reacquaint ourselves, time to readjust to each other. Rushing will not do us any good.” “But...” Gilbert looked at him with hope and eagerness, “now that you and His Majesty have addressed the misunderstanding, the major hurdle is resolved, isn’t it?” Thales stared back, lost for words, uncertain how to respond.

“As for everything else, getting used to each other again, the whole Kingdom... we can take our time. Step by step,” Gilbert’s eyes held a plea.

“Just like... in the past.”

like... in the past

This made Thales feel somewhat estranged.

And guilty.

“But what if it’s not?”

Thales heard his own voice echoing in the palace, “What if I stormed the palace not just because I felt wronged?” He could not lie to him.

“What if His Majesty and I haven’t cleared up the misunderstanding?”

He could not pretend everything was alright, as Gilbert wished.

“What if we cannot go back to how things used to be?”

Gilbert grew quiet, and with it, his enthusiasm waned.

“Your Highness...” The Foreign Affairs Minister drew in a deep breath, as if mustering courage through the act.

“What happened?” he asked carefully, trying to find his bearings.

Thales forced a smile.

“Let me put it this way. My conversation with him... didn’t go smoothly.”

Gilbert did not respond right away. He studied Thales, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “No, what I meant was...” After much hesitation, Gilbert’s voice faltered. "What happened to you,

Your Highness?”

Thales met his gaze, holding onto his smile. “What?”

“There’s something not quite right about you.”

“You seem different,” Gilbert shook his head, his expression filled with complexity as he looked at Thales. “You’re completely changed from this morning. If I had not seen it myself, I’d almost think someone was pretending to be you.”

‘Maybe you are right.’

Thales thought to himself.

“What happened to you after you left the palace?”

Thales paused before answering honestly.

“I went to the Lower City.”

Gilbert was stunned. "The Lower City? But that’s not where you—’ “Yes.”

Gilbert paused before speaking, “Your Highness, you acted hastily. You must understand, given your noble status, every action of yours—”

But his words were cut short by Thales’ vague and distracted reply.

“I am afraid of him.”

Gilbert halted, “What?”

Thales glanced at him, mustered a faint smile, then turned to peer down the deep, dark corridor. “In my time away, facing constant danger and uncertainties, be it dealing with cunning vampires, the powerful Born King, or even the ruthless Chapman Lampard, I was never afraid.”11 ‘Well, almost never.’

“But when I returned to the Kingdom and met him...” him

Thales stared into the darkness at the corridor’s end and drifted off.

Gilbert frowned.

“I always feel like a fool and a coward when I am in the same room with him, cannot help but overanalyse the meaning behind his every move and second-guess the intent of his every word— always paranoid and uneasy.”

The Prince scoffed lightly.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, but yes, I am afraid of him.”

Thales turned back, meeting Gilbert’s gaze squarely, his words sincere yet troubled.

“But tell me, Gilbert, why would I fear him?”

Gilbert could only stare at Thales in bewilderment, a far cry from the Cunning Fox of Constellation’s usual confident composure.

“Sure, he holds the esteemed title of Supreme King in Constellation, but is he sneakier than vampires, mightier than King Nuven, or more ruthless than King Chapman? More challenging to anticipate than the Shadow Shield with their thoughts about messing with me every odd or even day?" Thales’ gaze sharpened, his words picking up speed without his notice.12

“More deceitful and dangerous than all those wolves and tigers that sought to harm me along this

journey?

Gilbert struggled to understand, his disbelief showing as his lips parted. “But he, he is your father, Your Highness!”

Thales laughed.

“Did you know,

“In the Lower City, I met the owner of a respectable store who, in front of a towering, and fierce police officer, answered with quite indifference and ease,” Thales recounted, his mind elsewhere, “yet faltered in fear when confronted by a shady gangster.”14

“In that same place, there was this ordinary girl who adamantly turned down the promises of a luxurious life from a nobleman, choosing instead to stay with her mediocre, stingy, feeble, and weak-minded husband, living a rather ordinary life, which was quite puzzling.”15 Thales’ voice wavered.

“And in my old home, a once-feared gangster, now tragically disabled, was holed up in a rundown shack, struggling to survive yet still refusing the help of his former gang mates, willing to rather die than return to the Brotherhood that once glorified him.”16

Listening to those words, Gilbert's confusion resurfaced.

“I was as baffled by all this as you are,” he confessed.

Thales fixed his gaze on Gilbert, firming his resolve.

“But eventually, I came to understand,

“The authority of the police officer wasn’t insignificant, yet that small-time businessman managed to thrive on the streets unscathed by not relying on the police station’s slow response but rather by forging connections and agreements with the local underworld.”

“While receiving a life of luxury is good, if it doesn’t change the girl’s fate of being at someone else’s mercy, then I am not much better than her husband—she, at least, knows her mediocre husband’s flaws and how to navigate life with him.”

“As for that former gangster, despite his bitter words, deep down, he knows better than anyone else that his past glory stemmed from a body that fought and strived. Losing that body, a return to the gang would only mean self-inflicted humiliation.”

Thales stepped closer, looking straight into Gilbert’s eyes.

“Between what they can and cannot do, they all understand what truly controls them.”

Gilbert instinctively took a step back.

“So, I think it’s high time for me to understand as well,” Thales murmured in the deep and chilly corridor of the Renaissance Palace.

“What exactly controls me? And what can I control?”

“Maybe you’re right, Your Majesty.”

In the quiet confines of the room, Thales inclined his head slightly.

“Maybe I can just wait it out; wait until that moment comes when I am finally unrestricted, without any holds.”

As his tone grew firmer and his words hastened, he continued, “By then, wielding the throne and its power, I will be free to pardon or soothe disputes as I see fit. I will have the liberty to assert my will, achieving everything you denied me today."

King Kessel quietly fixed his gaze on him.

Thales looked out into the dark beyond the window, his eyes distant.

“Just as the ‘wise men’ say: ‘If you cannot beat it, join it, mould it, nurture it. and eventually change it from within. ’”

In the next breath, Thales refocused.

“But we all know that’s a downright lie.”

At the end of the long table, the Iron Hand King’s eyebrows twitched.

Thales looked steadfastly at the monarch.

“Just as you, not even by an inch, adamantly refuse any compromise with the nobility, even if it might briefly strengthen your rule.”

‘“Join it, change it’—such bullshit is how it deceives and bewitches you in the first place. It limits your freedom, crushes your resistance, robs you of your tools, softens your will, and ultimately thwarts everything you strive for.”

Thales’ tone grew stronger and more resolute,

“If you believe it, you lose.

“Because once you compromise and blend in, the first to change will not be ‘it’, but you.’

Thales stared squarely at the King, stressing each word,

“Because at the end of the day, you’re only one person, one person.”

King Kessel observed the Prince in silence, his face expressionless as he suddenly asked, “‘It’?”

The King sneered icily, “Where is ‘it’?”

Thales held the King’s gaze, as if peering into something terrifying.

“Take a look around, Your Majesty.”

Thales spread his hands and asked with a chuckle,

“Where isn’t it?”

The lights flickered, and the gentle night breeze played around them.

Both stood in silent opposition.

The Ballard Room seemed untouched, no hint of change.

King Kessel did not turn, but his frown deepened.

Thales paid no heed to his reaction, settling back in his chair, lost in his narrative.

“Six years ago, at Broken Dragon Fortress, I saw the Archduke of Black Sand for the first time.” Slowly drifting, Thales seemed transported back to that winter six years earlier, "He truly embodied a titan of his time—a visionary leader, exceptional in demeanour, capable of inspiring loyalty and sacrifices from countless heroes.”

Pausing for a moment, Thales muttered, “Frankly, he had way more charm than you.”

King Kessel showed the slightest reaction to the comment.

Resuming a more serious tone, Thales continued, “Half a year ago, in Dragon Clouds City, I crossed paths with him again—Chapman Lampard.”

With a different look, Thales asked, “But can you guess what I saw this time?”

True to form, King Kessel offered no response.

“I saw Eckstedt’s common-elected King, the Kinslayer, Chapman the First.”

Thales pressed on, his gaze intensifying, “And there he was, seated where King Nuvcn used to be, starting to think, play chess, and strategize much like King Nuven himself.”

“He began to relish the same experiences as his uncle—adopting his perspective, following his path, facing his tribulations, and being ensnared in the same paradoxes that once bound him.” “Those very chains that once restrained King Nuven were slowly but surely binding him, leaving him breathless and soaked in sweat.”

Thales stared wide-eyed, as if he were witnessing the most surreal play unfold,

“King Chapman thought he had succeeded in overthrowing King Nuven and destroying him in a desperate attempt to regicide his way to the throne,” he said, his gaze growing dim.17 “Physically, yes.”

“But in spirit, in values, in a much broader sense...”

He gritted his teeth, “No, he hadn’t.”

Suddenly, the young man lifted his gaze, meeting the eyes of the Iron Hand King.

“Because he was forced to abide by the Born King’s values, trapped by his vision, oppressed by his methods and habits, and consumed by his way of thinking. He was haunted by Nuven’s spirit day and night, thinking as Nuven did, acting as Nuven would. Stuck in it, unable to break free.” “Until he became forever enslaved to Nuven—just as Nuven himself, in his time, became enslaved by the kings who came before him.”

Thales was suddenly struck by a memory of the Black Prophet from the Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department.

He sat in a chair woven from those eerie vines, his life tethered to their grip, rendering him unable to break free.

“Six years, just six” Thales said, his gaze weighed with an unusual blend of sorrow and dread. “It shocked and saddened me. King Nuven, long gone, managed to completely devour his nephew, the once Chapman Lampard, in just six years.”

“Not a single trace left.”

King Kessel stayed silent, but his intense gaze spoke volumes.

“Among those I have met, Chapman was already a paramount hero,” Thales continued, emotion swelling within.

“Since Dragon’s Blood Night, he understood his true enemies weren’t Nuven, but the very forces that once hampered and defeated Nuven—foes larger, mightier, and far more terrifying.”

“Killing King Nuven wasn’t about revenge or gain, but to prevent another Nuven from rising.” Thales’ expression darkened, recalling his meeting with King Chapman in the carriage:

“You know this better than anyone else. It’s been six years, but the ideal Eckstedt is moving further and further away from me. ”

“Until he became Nuven’s successor, wore the crown, sat on the throne, and became the second Born King.”

“He sensed it, fought with all his might, yet achieved little, finding himself powerless.” King Kessel responded with a cold snort.

Thales shook off his thoughts with a chuckle, but his words carried a tone of sadness and resignation.

“Do not get me wrong; Chapman Lampard is still a force to be reckoned with, still a very dangerous and formidable man, no doubt about it. But honestly, from what I have seen, there’s not much of himself left in that man.”

He looked down at his plate, watching the spoon sink into the soup, a mix of emotions playing across his face.

“It all began when he had to bend to reality, abide by the rules, and bow to the Joint Ruling Pledge... “From the moment he ‘temporarily’ set aside his grand vision, “Another collar was put around his neck.”

In a hushed tone, Thales went on, “Becoming another Nuven the Seventh.” King Kessel fell into silence, deeply lost in thought, offering no answer.

At opposite ends of the long table, the King and the Prince faced each other in a profound silence. The room felt unusually still, as if even the breeze dared not disrupt the scene.

After taking a deep breath, Thales turned to the Iron Hand King, his gaze serious.

“Back in Constellation, I might not stomach your methods or align with your will. I could, of course, endure it all, wait patiently, and carefully plan to take power when the opportunity arises.” “Maybe that would gain wider acceptance, be deemed ‘wiser’, and find its way into history records and the admiration of future generations—much like what happened two months ago.” But then Thales hesitated, his thoughts clouded with uncertainty.

“But after that scene at the banquet, I grew afraid.”

King Kessel scoffed and asked, “Afraid?”

Thales drew a deep breath, nodding in response.

“I fear that in my repeated silent acceptances and concessions, in my repeated T don’t agree but I will not speak up’ silences, I might grow accustomed, numb, and eventually bend to ‘it.’”

He spoke with a heavy heart, “I am afraid of normalising your subtle cruelty, seeing countless sufferings, and becoming desensitised to your indifference to desperate pleas. I am afraid of how today’s punishment might shape my response when facing the next Anker Byrael or any future injustice.”

Thales’s voice trembled as he continued.

“I am afraid that one day I will grow so indifferent and unnerved, losing sight of myself in acceptance of the status quo, without a fight.”

King Kessel’s gaze shifted slowly.

“I am afraid that once I take the throne and wear the crown, I will watch others sacrifice themselves for me without a shred of guilt or much of a second thought.”

“I will not just take it for granted; I might even come to justify, intensify it. If someone refuses to sacrifice for me, for King Thales, I might go as far as to grow discontent, angry, interpreting it as a lack of love for the King, for the nation, even as betrayal, or worse, treason.”19

Thales held King Kessel’s gaze, trying to perceive something beyond his defences.

“I fear becoming unrecognisable to myself.”

“I will not be Thales Jadestar anymore; I will be an empty vessel occupied by the ‘King of Constellation.’”

Thales’s tone faded into emptiness and weariness.

“That terrifies me more than anything else—more than death, failure, or any harm to my name or body.”

His voice faded into the air, leaving a hushed room in its wake. This time, the surrounding lights seemed a touch brighter.

Shortly after, King Kessel lifted his head slightly, and his gaze fell on the portrait of the ‘Wise Prime Minister’ Halva hanging on the wall.

“It looks like you made your choice long ago,” he remarked in a quiet tone.

Thales could not help but scoff.

“I will not play by your rules,” he declared firmly, “nor will I abide by theirs.”

With a resolute gaze, Thales stood firm.

“I refuse to become the next Chapman Lampard.

“Or the next Kessel Jadestar.”

Pausing for effect, he added, “Just like my blood has never, and will never, glow golden.”

King Kessel lowered his head; his stern gaze met Thales’ eyes.

“To hell with legends and the throne,” he said adamantly.

Thales clenched his jaw, balled his hand into a fist, and struck his chest firmly.

“My blood runs crimson red from start to end.”

“My own red.”

King Kessel sneered, and the room seemed to come alive again.

“Thales Jadestar,” he said softly, calling the Prince’s name.

“Are truly you prepared, to become an enemy of the King?”

At that, Thales laughed.

“You’re getting old, Your Majesty.”

“That question was asked six years ago.”20

Kessel’s gaze twitched slightly.

In the next moment, Thales straightened himself and spoke with resolve, “Fate.

“Since long prepared me.”