In a world where kingdoms were built on the pillars of glory and tradition, where every prince was born to be a symbol of his nation's future, the Kingdom of Orvallis proudly displayed its golden thrones and majestic palace. Its corridors stretched like passageways holding the secrets of generations past. Colossal cedar doors, decorated with gleaming copper, and marble staircases reflecting the sun at every sunrise, served only as a stage for showing power—not for rest or peace.
Four years ago:
Early one morning, as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the tall palace windows, illuminating the carefully laid tiled floor, the fourth prince, Ken Val Orvallis, walked hesitantly across the great hall. His body was thin, his black hair falling over his eyes, hiding the constant fear and confusion within. His head was bowed, hands clasped in front of him, as if each movement carried the weight of silent guilt.
When he entered the hall, all eyes fell upon him for a brief moment—a mix of curiosity and surprise—but Ken didn't respond. He made his way to his seat in the corner and quietly set his plate before him. Around him sat his five siblings:
Adrian Val Orvallis, the eldest, 25, tall and strong with natural dignity, dark brown hair and sharp eyes. He commanded attention without needing to speak.
Leon Val Orvallis, 22, tall and handsome, with a confident gaze, known for both intelligence and skill in battle.
Darius Val Orvallis, 19, athletic, with blue eyes sparkling with competitiveness, and a voice full of confidence and ambition.
Iliana Val Orvallis, the youngest, 15, green-eyed with long blond hair, intelligent and kind, though she rarely interfered in her brothers' disputes.
The conversation between Leon and Darius soon turned to the upcoming Knight Festival, and their discussion was heated:
"I can't believe last year's festival went like that," Darius said, panting, a wry smile on his lips. "The new knights weren't up to par, and even the Royal Guard didn't live up to expectations."
"Don't exaggerate, Darius," Leon replied, raising an eyebrow. "The knights who participated proved themselves. I remember Sergeant Cairn clearly. If it had been just a show of strength, he would have shined."
"Ah, Cairn… yes, but he wasn't the strongest. Don't forget the knights from the northern lands—they were fiercer and more resilient," Darius said, absently stirring his soup.
Ken, sitting nearby, remained silent. He ate slowly, feeling the weight of their unspoken judgment.
Suddenly, Leon glanced at him, his tone a mix of mockery and curiosity:
"Hey… I didn't notice you, Ken."
Ken didn't reply, keeping his head lowered.
After a moment, Leon added:
"By the way, if you don't finish your food quickly, for someone as skinny as you, that looks like a huge portion."
Darius chuckled softly, then shoved the plate of meat toward Ken, spilling stew onto his chest. Leon and Darius laughed loudly. Darius added sarcastically:
"Hey, I was just offering you some meat… maybe it'll help you finish your meal faster."
Ken froze, unable to respond. Minutes later, everyone finished eating and left the hall. Ken remained, overwhelmed with bitterness and embarrassment, while the servants looked on with a mixture of pity and disdain, their whispers nearly reaching his ears.
Back in his room, Ken closed the door and collapsed onto his bed, crying bitterly. His personal servant, an elderly man named Marvin, with a gray beard and kind eyes, entered quietly and tried to comfort him:
"My lord… don't let them trouble your heart… you're stronger than they think."
Ken didn't move, crying silently until his tears dried on his pillow.
In the middle of the night, he wandered the dark palace corridors, passing narrow alleys. He overheard servants whispering about him:
"Weak… a joke… he'll amount to nothing."
He returned to his room and sat on the windowsill overlooking the royal garden, where tall trees and ornate flowers had once adorned his late mother's garden. Memories of childhood flooded back—how Iliana would scream with joy while playing with their mother, and how his heart had been full of happiness and respect.
But after their mother's death from illness, everything changed. Fear and bitterness took hold, and he gradually lost confidence in himself. He began blaming himself, whispering:
"Why wasn't I stronger? Why didn't I stand up for myself? Every day I feel smaller and weaker… Will anyone remember me? Or will I remain just a shadow among my brothers, nothing more, nothing less?"
Ken gazed at the moonlight reflecting on the palace fountain, feeling a strange stir within—a voice urging him to rise, though he didn't yet understand its meaning.
End of Chapter One.