Ken woke up at dawn, as he had for years, only to witness the same familiar scene: the first rays of sunlight slipping through the curtains of his room, a cold breeze drifting in from the garden, and the ornate walls reflecting the palace's false tranquility—while his heart remained heavy with fear and unease.
He rose slowly from his bed, his frail body stiffened slightly, and his hesitant steps carried him toward the grand dining hall. Upon entering, he greeted softly:
"Good morning…"
But, as always, no one answered.
Leon smirked mockingly.
"Ah… seems Ken is still lost in his little dream."
Darius chuckled softly and shoved a small dish toward Ken, spilling the soup onto the floor.
Ken remained silent, head bowed, enduring the daily humiliation. Everyone finished their meals and left the hall, while he stayed behind, weighed down by embarrassment and bitterness. The whispers of the servants behind him, dripping with pity and disdain, reached his ears as always.
Returning to his room, Ken paused for a moment before breaking down in tears—his eyes had caught an envelope lying on the table. With trembling hands, he picked it up and asked his loyal attendant, Marvin:
"What is this envelope?"
Marvin, struggling to contain his excitement, replied softly:
"I believe it is an invitation, my lord…"
Ken stared in surprise.
"An invitation?"
He opened the envelope and read its contents:
"It is our honor to invite you to the celebration held tonight at Duke Greif's palace."
Ken froze, his heart stirring with a mixture of shock and fear.
Marvin tried to reassure him:
"I will inform the servants to prepare the carriage, and we will choose your finest clothes, my lord… This is your chance to break the monotony of your daily life."
Ken sipped his tea and sat in thought, anxiety gnawing at him.
*If the invitation has reached me, then surely my brothers will be there… What new humiliation awaits me this time?*
As the sun set, Ken boarded his carriage, heading toward the duke's palace.
Along the way, he asked Marvin:
"What is the occasion for this celebration?"
Marvin replied:
"My lord… there is no particular occasion, just a simple gathering. Though there are side reasons—such as the success of Duke Greif's family project, and the return of his son from a three-week field expedition."
Minutes later, Ken arrived at the palace, where lavish carriages lined the gates. Nervous, he stepped down and approached the guards, handing them the invitation through Marvin.
As he passed the gate, the duke's son—a young man in his mid-twenties—approached and asked:
"Why have you come?"
Ken froze, confused, while Marvin whispered anxiously:
"What…? Didn't you send him the invitation?"
Suddenly, a familiar, mocking voice echoed from behind:
"Hahaha… looks like someone brought an invitation that wasn't meant for him."
Marvin turned to see Prince Darius smirking, while Ken kept his gaze lowered, the words carving deep into his heart.
Darius said,
"The invitation wasn't for you. But if you were so eager to attend, why not simply ask instead of taking someone else's place?"
Ken froze, shame and anger boiling inside him, especially as the insult was delivered publicly before the nobles.
Marvin whispered:
"My lord… what should we do?"
Ken gave no reply. He climbed back into the carriage, head bowed, fists clenched tightly in humiliation and fury.
Back at the palace, he rushed into his room and shouted at Marvin:
"How could you let this happen!? Is this how you serve me? Did you expect me to endure such disgrace in broad daylight?"
Marvin, flustered, tried to explain softly:
"My lord… I meant no harm. I thought it might be a chance for you…"
But Ken did not listen. The anger within him surged, and the inner voice that had long whispered now thundered:
*I will not remain a shadow any longer… I will not allow them to disgrace me again… This is the time to rise.*
He collapsed onto the floor, clutching his head, bitterness and rage rising. The inner voice shouted louder:
*Power… Rise… Revenge… Prove yourself.*
The next morning, in the capital's military center, someone called out:
"Marshal! Are the rumors about your retirement true?"
The marshal laughed.
"Hahaha, in fact, I have just retired."
The soldier replied:
"So the rumors were true… but why?"
The marshal answered:
"Why, you ask? Do you expect me to continue at sixty? I have already given forty years of my life. Perhaps I shall return someday."
The soldier grinned.
"Really? Then when you return, I'll prove myself worthy and join your unit!"
The marshal laughed heartily.
"Hahaha… when I said I might return, I didn't mean to my rank. Perhaps to some simple work where I can still serve… or perhaps I won't return at all."
Disappointment flashed across the soldier's face.
The marshal left the center, and as he opened the door to depart, two things greeted him:
the warm rays of the morning sun…
and the sight of the fourth prince—Ken.
End of Chapter Two