Everything felt ruined as Paul Keller stood right behind me. My heart reacted faster than my mind, playing an instrument of fear; with every breath Paul took, my heart answered with a beat.
"It seems you didn't hear me the first time. I won't say it again. What are you doing here?" Paul said.
I dropped the letter and stood up. Turning around with a gentle smile on my face, I replied,
"That's a very valid question. Why am I in your private archives, going through letters, reading them, analyzing them, collecting them?"
"Collecting what?"
As soon as he said that, he drew his sword and pointed it at my neck. The blade shimmered—pure gold, unlike anything I had ever seen. I thought to myself:
It seems what I am doing is working. I need to provoke him, make him say things he'd rather keep hidden. It's better that way than digging through dusty letters.
"A heavenly sword indeed," I said aloud. "It seems your wealth knows no bounds. Perhaps that's why you didn't choose to be king—you don't need the fame or fortune, I presume."
He lowered his sword slightly, turned toward the shelves, and began running his hand along them as he said,
"Who says I wish not to be crowned monarch of this realm? That has always been my dream and goal."
"Then why not take it?" I replied. "Take it from Drevail."
His face twisted in bewildered disbelief, his cheeks creasing with tension, as if I had uttered a truth he never expected me to grasp—a secret, or something dangerously close to it.
"So you know... that the kingdom has a king, and it's not me," he said.
"Grace me the opportunity to question, but why? Why hide it from the public?" I asked.
"Grace granted," he said. "Because men's hearts aren't in the right place. Many grow angry when things don't go their way."
He pointed toward the chair behind the steel desk.
"Take a seat."
With cautious steps, I approached and sat down. My back met neither pain nor distress, but rather surprising comfort.
"This seat," I said, admiring it, "you must have claimed heaven itself to acquire such a marvel."
He chuckled.
"Hahaha, no lad. It's a workpiece made by a man named Godot. It's from Kinisha."
"Now that you are seated," he continued, "please introduce yourself and tell me why you seek an audience with me."
I rose from the chair, crossing my arms over my chest, and said,
"I am Johannes Freiburg, son of Mathias Freiburg, a member of the noble family of the Tongarian Province."
"Such a grand introduction. There was no need for all the ceremony, lad," Paul said with a small smile.
"Oh no, that's the proper way a noble should introduce his household. I'm merely following etiquette, Sir Lord Paul Keller," I replied.
"Paul is quite alright. No need for all those lordships," he requested lightly.
"Son of Mathias... that's wonderful. How is your father? I trust he's doing well at home?"
He acts as if he doesn't know that my father has been accused of killing Troy Habsburg.
"Of course, he is," I replied smoothly. "I graced him before leaving for your manor."
"That's good to hear.
Mathias is a friend of mine, and I only hope for the best."
I sat back down gently, my posture calm and deliberate, showing I wasn't the least bit frightened. I placed my leg on the desk, trying to intimidate him, to make him feel beneath me. Then I said:
"Paul Keller, head of the Keller family, next in line for the crown. Out of greed for more power, you orchestrated the king's death—but Drevail found out. Out of fear, you handed him the crown to save your own neck."
"Hahahaha."
He burst into laughter. Each passing second only made him laugh harder, louder—like I'd told the joke of the century. My words became fuel for his amusement. Tears welled in his eyes and began to trail down his cheeks, carving paths like waterfalls along a mountain slope.
Removing my leg from the desk, I leaned forward, hands planted firmly.
"I see you took my words as some kind of joke—a spectacle worth laughter."
"Of course!" he said through lingering chuckles. "That is the most absurd thing I've heard in a long while. I desire not the crown. Had you done any inquiry, you'd know I am second to none when it comes to wealth in this kingdom. I seek neither the throne nor its glory. I have more than enough of both. You yourself now bear witness to this—look around! My manor stands like that of a god's. It's adorned with the art of the new and old, guarded by knights and men-at-arms. I own carriages of every class. Maids from every corner of the kingdom serve under this roof. I lack nothing."
Such words—each one heavy with pride. A man so full of himself might not have needed to kill the king.
"So what you're saying," I countered, "is that you're above the king. If that's true, then call off Operation Dawnlight."
"Operation Dawnlight? What's that?" Paul Keller asked.
"Don't act surprised with me. I know you've been briefed. It's the plan to wipe out the non-godbloods in retaliation for the king's death."
"You're suggesting the newly appointed king has ordered genocide against those people? If that's true, it leads to only one conclusion," he said slowly.
"What conclusion? What do you mean?" I asked, tense.
"It's something I've suspected since the king's death. That's why I've kept close contact with the palace—to stay informed. But I can't say anything for certain... not yet."
I placed a hand on my chin, deep in thought. So many questions raced through my mind:
Could it be true? Does Paul really know nothing about the operation?
If he's not behind it, what does Drevail stand to gain?
He's already king—why the slaughter?
Or… could someone else be the true mastermind—someone who deeply hates the non-godbloods?
With my head bowed slightly in Paul's direction, I spoke in a calm but clear voice:
"Paul Keller, forgive my earlier outburst. I apologize for ever suggesting you were involved in the king's death. I will accept any punishment you deem fit."
"But please—tell me. Did you attend the Royal Council meeting where Drevail was appointed king?"
"Yes, of course I did. Some even suggested I be crowned, but I took no delight in their words. Instead, I supported another's proposal—Sir Lord Osvald Albright. It was he who nominated Drevail. And it was he who proposed that, as punishment for the non-godbloods, we should follow the path of the Tumedia Empire—exterminate all non-godbloods beyond the wall."
Osvald Albright… head of the Albright noble family. They reside in the capital and stand as co-nobles alongside the Habsburgs.
"I do have a punishment for you," Paul added, "though perhaps not a punishment—more of a request. My brother, Randy Keller, is a mage knight of the Grade 4 class and the commander of the southern division. I hate to impose, but he is short on men. That's why I journeyed to the capital—to request reinforcements. There have been frequent sightings of Firstborns in the border forest. Knights and men are needed."
"It will be my honor to assist a warrior in the defense of his people. When do I begin?" I asked.
"Oh, that's wonderful. You can start as early as tomorrow," he replied.
I remember seeing something in my father's documents—an Albright knight stationed at the southern division.
This may be the perfect chance to learn more about the Albrights.