Three Weeks Later – Markov Estate, Morning Light
The courtyard was calm again.No council meetings.No secret plots.No blood in the halls.
For now.
Birds chirped like they hadn't watched power shift hands two dozen times in silence.I sipped my tea alone, under the arching shadow of the eastern balcony.
Same ritual. Same rhythm.But everything had changed.
The New Normal
My mornings were clockwork now:
Sword drills with Mikhail at dawn.
Council summaries with Vincent mid-morning.
Policy reviews from 1 PM till 3.
One-hour "strategic reflection time" that was really just a scheduled break to sit in a quiet room and not explode.
I didn't mind.The discipline kept the chaos from leaking out.Even Clara had gone quiet.
Her reports came through Leif now—cold, clinical, not a word more than necessary.
Elias had disappeared again.Which, I was learning, meant he was probably doing something important. Or something regrettable. With him, the line was thin.
And my father?Still didn't speak unless it was a statement of absolute consequence.
But he hadn't removed me.That was something.
Vincent entered the reading room as I finished skimming today's minutes.His steps were always perfectly measured—neither loud nor too soft.
"Your appointment with Mr. Rahl," he said, voice like still water, "has been shifted by twenty minutes. Mikhail requests an early session tomorrow."
I didn't even glance up. "Let him. He says that every time I stop landing my counter properly."
"You were half a beat late today."He placed the updated schedule gently on the table between us.
"Noticed, did you?"
"I am programmed to."A pause. "Sir… your progress is ahead of schedule."
"I wasn't aware there was a schedule," I muttered.
"There is always a schedule."
I looked at him now. "Even for people like me?"
Vincent hesitated. That was rare.Then he replied, "Especially for people like you."
School Reports – Still Watching
Every few days, a sealed brown file would arrive.
Contents:
Summaries of the class's behavior.
Leadership observations about 1-A.
Academic performance reports.
Apparently, I was still enrolled—at least on paper.
Tyler was thriving in soccer, as expected.Emma had assumed a half-leadership role in my absence. Predictable.
Sofia… apparently took over the group chat and renamed it "Jay's Harem Support Group."
Unfortunate.But not surprising.
Amaya's grades had stabilized. That was good.It meant she wasn't breaking.
Yuki?
No notes. Just one line:
"Dawson remains under observational review."
Who was observing her?Why?
I didn't ask. I didn't want to open that door yet.
But I circled the line twice before closing the file.Red ink.It looked a little too much like blood.
Later that evening, I brought it up. Casually."Well played," I said, tossing the folder on Vincent's desk.
He glanced up. "Something amiss?"
"One line on Dawson. No details. A little too vague, don't you think?"
"I believe it suffices," he replied, folding his hands. "If you're asking whether the monitoring was ordered by the Estate, the answer is no."
"Then who?" I asked.
His silence told me enough.
After a moment, I leaned back in the chair. "She's not a threat, Vincent."
"She's an anomaly. And that makes her unpredictable."
"That makes half my class unpredictable."
"Yes," he said. "But only one of them saw what you did. And lived."
The Last Glance
Before I went to bed that night, I stood in the grand gallery alone.
Hundreds of portraits lined the walls.Men and women with power in their eyes.Kings of no country.Queens of no crown.Rulers behind curtains.
At the very end—An empty frame.
Marked only:"Reserved for He Who Reigns Without Asking."
I stared at it longer than I should have.
There was no reflection.Only the faint ghost of expectation.
"Do you ever wonder what they were like?" I asked, not turning around.
Vincent was still behind me. Quiet, as always.But I knew he hadn't left.
He responded, "I served two of them. The rest, I studied."His voice echoed off the marble.
"And?"
"They were all different. But they had one thing in common."
"What's that?"
"They were tired. Always."
I swallowed. Looked back at the frame.Still empty.Still waiting.
As I walked the long hallway back to my chambers, the echo of my shoes tapped against the floor in steady rhythm.But my mind wasn't here.
It wandered—not to the war rooms or future meetings—but to the sound of laughter that once filled a sunlit classroom.To the scent of fresh bread Amaya used to sneak me between classes.To Tyler yelling across a courtyard.
I wondered if my seat by the window still sat empty.And if anyone still looked at it long enough to miss me.