Chapter 220
Felix
I speak with the king for an hour, and somewhere between the silences and the small talk, I notice something.
He's not just the king. He's a lonely old man.
His wife died decades ago. His only son—my father—died too. And now, here I am, the reminder of both. I can't quite bring myself to hate him.
"How are your lessons going?" he asks at last, probably meaning the endless noble etiquette drills, political lectures, and inheritance laws shoved down my throat these past few months.
"Not bad," I say, trying to sound casual. "It's… a bit much."
He chuckles. "Yes, it must be, given how late you've started. But remember—" his eyes sharpen, gold glinting through the weariness, "—the other factions are watching. They'll seize on any fault you show."
I know exactly who he means.
His younger brother. My great-uncle.
