Desire was also a weakness. What Kalian craved could be used as a weapon to strike him at the crucial moment.
“He’s someone I’ve forgotten,” Blayden said.
Kalian’s jaw twitched slightly.
His gray eyes, now clouded with loneliness, glistened as if asking whether he truly meant that. Unexpectedly, Blayden felt a sense of triumph.
“I only take one mission at a time. I’m not some great figure to be ordered around with ‘fetch this’ and ‘deliver that.’ I’ll retrieve the Shadow Flower first.”
As he spoke, like shooing away a bothersome insect, and turned to leave, Blayden felt his resolve waver.
He had promised himself he wouldn’t be caught up in Kalian’s emotional games again.
So why now?
Was it the thrill of finally gaining the upper hand?
Or perhaps suppressed emotions from the battlefield were beginning to erupt?
***
“Did the wicked Grim Painting Tribe really demand the royal consort as tribute, Your Highness?”
Kalian’s jaw tightened.
His burning gray eyes seemed to shout, How dare you.
Blayden continued nonchalantly,
“I simply want to know. Are we negotiating for the sake of the kingdom—or for the sake of Your Highness?”
Kalian took a deep breath, then lowered his eyes.
“Nothing comes before the peace of Ekillium.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
With a crooked tilt of his head, Blayden turned to leave. But just as he took a step, Kalian asked,
“Why did you steal King Verden’s heart?”
So you’re not going to let me go quietly.
By tradition, the heart of a conquered king should’ve been offered to Tigrinu.
Since the king had not been present on the battlefield, Kalian, as his proxy, should have received the heart and prepared the surrender ceremony.
But Blayden hadn’t wanted to see Ekillium become the ruler of the continent.
“I was hungry. Just when I was about to take a bite, a hawk snatched it away. A shame, really.”
“I could charge you with treason.”
“If you’re going to, hurry up and do it. You and His Majesty have been circling me for years. It’s getting boring.”
Ever since he was captured at the age of seven, Blayden had been rebelling in every way he could.
Resisting and disobeying, as much as he was able.
Yet the conquerors never cast him out.
Tigrinu and Kalian both oppressed and despised him, but they never sent him to the execution grounds.
Even now, as a grown warrior who openly spoke of rebellion, the father and son continued to test him and bait him with loyalty.
That was something family did—not enemies.
When would they finally cast aside their petty emotions and draw their swords on him?
Only then would he gladly stand at the front lines of the rebellion.
“If anyone saw us, they’d think you adore me—how humbling.”
Blayden’s composure further aggravated Kalian.
“Did you eat your fill last night?”
Leni’s face flickered before Blayden’s eyes.
Kalian, so you’re going to jab me there?
But that little brat will never be my weakness.
“Imagine a dog licking a dried-up bone.”
“My, my. We can’t let a war hero go hungry, can we?”
Feigning pity, Kalian raised a hand.
Whoosh—an apple flew through the air.
Blayden swiftly drew his sword and slashed.
The apple flying toward him split cleanly in two and fell to the ground.
Kalian sighed as he looked down at the apple’s exposed flesh, cleanly sliced.
“A hunting dog that refuses food, huh.”
Blayden stared straight at Kalian and sheathed his sword.
Kalian met his gaze, his voice sinking into melancholy.
“You threw away the apple I offered back then, too. Some things never change, even with time.”
“Consistency is a virtue.”
With a gaze as cold as steel, Blayden slowly bowed.
As he did, the red apple on the floor pierced his vision.
A hallucination of a heart drenched in blood shimmered faintly, and he had to grit his teeth.
***
Duke Crove entered the Great Hall after Blayden withdrew.
Deran Crove.
A dignified elderly noble with a commanding presence and insightful gray eyes, he was a loyal retainer of Tigrinu.
Recognized for his devoted service during the Sun War, he was granted the title of duke and enjoyed the king’s trust as well as the respect of the nobility.
Since he was elected as the representative of the nobles, Kalrian expected him to make some harsh remarks about the succession issue.
But the duke unexpectedly spoke differently.
“You must also embrace the faction that was friendly to Princess Kiabel, Your Highness.”
Kalrian’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“There are whispers that Your Highness tried to make Kiabel queen. What is your opinion on that?”
“It’s not worth discussing. Since the princess is no longer with us, she is no longer a factor in the succession. Your Highness should simply ensure that Princess Kiabel may rest honorably.”
Kalrian was confused, unsure whether Crove was defending him or blaming him for Kiabel’s death.
Although his words sounded plausible, the old duke’s expression held a hint of reproach.
Kalrian responded by showing no reaction. Ignoring was a more effective tactic than rejection.
Duke Crove was seasoned enough not to show he was offended.
Bowing his richly bearded face slightly, he skillfully continued his argument.
“Your Highness, Princess Kiabel is your younger sister. For now, show only the sorrow of losing family. Hold a funeral befitting the princess, and stay by Your Highness’s side. Brotherhood and filial piety are your strongest weapons.”
Kiabel and Kalrian were half-siblings.
Tigrinu had used his first wife purely as a political tool and had given her to the Shadow Clan as tribute.
He then took a second wife and had Kiabel.
Kiabel’s biological mother was the daughter of a tribal chief from Ekillium.
Ambitious politically, she persistently seduced Tigrinu and became his second queen.
But she was not satisfied there and committed adultery with a young count.
When their affair was discovered, both the queen and the count were executed. Kiabel was five years old at the time.
Tigrinu did not hate his daughter.
Rather, he pitied her for losing her mother early and protected her even more than before.
There was a reason for it all. Kalrian let out a bitter smile.
It was because she was his daughter.
The king wished Blayden to be his son.
No matter how much he wished, it was impossible.
But he could have Blayden wed to his daughter and become his son-in-law—bound not by blood but by law.
Was sending Kiabel as a peace envoy part of the big plan?
Did the king intend to make Kiabel a diplomatic hero and Blayden a war hero, then unite them by marriage?
That’s why Kiabel was kept in Verden until the moment of victory?
To have her endure trials on the enemy front and return as a decorated princess?
To elevate her as a candidate for queen?
The Skalson Troupe’s visit to the Verden royal palace—the decision to preserve Verden’s castle and its people.
Was the mastermind behind all this their father?
I thought my father abandoned Kiabel without knowing any of this.
Piecing the series of events together, Kalrian’s anger surged.
He felt like a fool with his eyes wide open.
Father, you took my mother from me and now try to take the throne as well.
When I become king, I will destroy everything you loved.
But he was not king yet.
Until the crown was placed on his head, he had to hide his true feelings.
If he showed his claws prematurely, the nobles fearing political repercussions would rise up in rebellion.
Even Duke Crove right in front of him spoke of brotherhood and filial piety.
“What about Sir Rehat, putting Kiabel aside?”
Kalian decided to probe Duke Krove in a different way.
“Ekilium has always honored heroes. It is our great tradition to anoint the strongest warrior as king. Since Sir Rehat led the war to victory, there are surely those who consider him worthy of the crown.”
He wanted to know if there really was a faction favoring Blayden and whether Duke Krove was loyal enough to hint that to him.
Krove seemed about to speak but closed his mouth again.
His thick, graying eyebrows twitched thoughtfully, and it took a moment before he spoke again.
“Your Highness, Sir Rehat is an exceptional swordsman and a brilliant strategist. But a warrior’s true brilliance shines on the battlefield. To covet the crown is ambition.”
Though this statement strengthened his own legitimacy, Kalian was not pleased.
His heart was already twisted.
He wanted the praise for martial skill and strategy for himself, not shared with anyone.
I fought in the war, risking my life.
Blayden Rehart, the prince of a fallen kingdom scorned as the king’s hunting dog.
Yet Kalian knew some nobles revered him.
He was jealous and envious.
The praise from the esteemed Duke Krove fueled his jealousy.
He felt an urge to tarnish Blayden’s reputation and throw him into the gutter.
“Your Highness, what is required to become king is not a seal or the last will of the previous ruler.”
Duke Krove spoke as if admonishing a child.
“Then what is it?”
“Courage.”
Was he suddenly about to give a philosophy lecture?
“Instead of competing with Sir Rehat, why not break the chain of bitter fate?”
“What do you mean?”
Kalian finally understood the old duke’s heart but feigned ignorance.
“King Tigrinu conquered Kiabeck for revenge. Though the Sun War enriched the lives of the Ekilium people, I believe Your Highness’ heart has grown more desolate.”
Violence begets violence, revenge begets revenge.
“Furthermore, countless lives were lost, and the dead cannot return.”
“So?”
“Finally, an era of peace is approaching. It is time to consider the safety of this kingdom and the continent. Embrace talented people. If there are personal grudges, brush them aside and extend your hand first to your rivals. Generosity is true courage. It is a virtue a monarch must have.”
“Are you saying I abandon the greater cause and indulge in personal revenge?”
“A loyal subject offers wise counsel before the ruler makes mistakes. Please consider my sincere advice, Your Highness.”
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