The morning came swiftly, golden rays spilling through the manor's tall glass windows. By dawn, Klein and Lucien were already on their way to the palace—two riders in a carriage drawn by silver-coated stallions, escorted by knights in blue and gold.
Most of the city of Ostina came into view, he found himself pressed against the window. The capital was magnificent—wide marble streets lined with banners of azure and white, towering spires that caught the sun, and fountains that shimmered with faint mana light. The air itself seemed alive with power and prosperity.
But as they neared the center, Klein noticed how the grandeur dimmed. The further from the palace, the rougher the cobblestones became, and the people's clothes turned from silk to rags.
"Lucien," he muttered, eyes narrowing, "this kingdom is strange. Beautiful on one side, broken on the other."
Lucien gave no answer. His gaze remained forward, calm but distant. "That's how kingdoms have always been, Klein."
Klein frowned. He didn't like that answer.
....
When the carriage gates of the Avalor Palace opened, Klein's jaw nearly dropped.
The palace was colossal—its walls layered with gold and white marble, its towers reaching for the heavens. Dozens of guards lined the staircase leading to enormous silver doors, their armor gleaming beneath the sunlight. At the top, the royal crest of Avalor—an eagle clutching a sword—was carved into the stone.
As the doors opened, Lucien stepped forward with purpose. Klein followed closely, trying not to look like a lost tourist.
Inside, the Throne Hall stretched endlessly. The ceiling was high enough to swallow an entire cathedral, its arches carved with scenes of gods and kings. Blue fire burned in silver sconces, and rows of knights stood at rigid attention on either flank, armor polished to mirror perfection.
When Lucien entered, they all saluted in unison. The sound of clanging metal filled the hall.
Lucien's presence was magnetic—every knight straightened further, as though the mere sight of him commanded discipline. Klein followed his lead, head slightly lowered, heart thudding in his chest.
At the far end sat the King of Avalor.
Klein had imagined meeting a monarch as something awe-inspiring—majestic, regal, maybe even divine. But the man lounging on the golden throne was more of a bored fat ugly noble than a ruler.
The king reclined lazily, his crown tilted slightly askew. A young slave girl stood beside him, feeding him grapes one by one. Around the dais, women lounged on silk cushions, fanning themselves and giggling softly.
Klein's stomach turned.
This… is the king?
He glanced at Lucien, but the commander's expression remained unreadable—bowing deeply before the throne. Klein did the same, though his thoughts seethed.
'So this is what power looks like here? A man drowning in luxury while his people starve outside the walls?'
The king popped a grape into his mouth and smirked. "Ah, Lucien. The loyal sword of Avalor returns. I trust your journey from Azure Crest was pleasant?"
Lucien straightened. "As always, Your Majesty. Duke Armand sends his respects."
"Good, good," the king muttered, waving lazily. His gaze drifted toward Klein. "And this one? A new recruit?"
Lucien nodded. "A squire under my care, Your Majesty. His name is Klein."
The king leaned forward slightly, squinting. "Hmph. A small one, isn't he? Still, if he's with you, I suppose he has potential. Let's hope he grows into his armor before the next war breaks out, eh?"
The knights nearby chuckled under their breaths. Klein forced a polite smile, though inside, his fists tightened.
'This clown rules the kingdom?'
Then his eyes drifted—to the right of the throne.
There, sitting quietly on a smaller dais, was a girl.
The Princess of Avalor.
She couldn't have been older than fourteen. Her long silver hair cascaded down her shoulders like moonlight, and her pale blue eyes were wide and shy. Every time someone's gaze lingered too long, she would look away, cheeks turning pink.
But when her gaze met Klein's, she didn't look away.
For a heartbeat, the hall seemed to fade—the noise, the guards, the king's laughter—all gone. It was just the two of them, staring. Klein blinked, caught off guard by her gentle beauty. Her lips parted slightly, and she looked down, flustered.
Paros's voice chuckled faintly in his mind.
'Oh, I see. So that's the kind of princess that makes you speechless.'
'Shut up,' Klein shot back. 'I'm just… appreciating aesthetics.'
'Sure you are, my liege.'
Lucien placed a hand on Klein's shoulder, subtly signaling for him to bow again as the audience drew to a close. The king waved them off with barely a glance, already returning his attention to the slave girl feeding him fruit.
As the two left the hall, Klein couldn't stop glancing back at the princess. She was still watching him—curiously, silently.
....
The carriage ride back to their quarters was quiet. Klein's head rested against the window, replaying the scene in his mind. The knights, the throne, the king's dismissive smirk.
Finally, he muttered, "Lucien… why does the king of Avalor look like a fool?"
Lucien didn't immediately respond. The carriage rocked gently over cobblestones before he finally said, "A fool, he might be—but the people still look up to him."
Klein frowned. "Why? He's a glutton surrounded by slaves."
Lucien sighed, folding his arms. "Because sometimes, Klein, people don't need a wise ruler. They just need a symbol—someone who keeps the illusion of peace alive. The real work happens behind the curtain, by those willing to stay unseen."
Klein thought about that. He didn't like it. He didn't want to be a hidden blade serving a fool.
He wanted to be the one holding the throne—the kind of king who'd make change, not just maintain it.
'A king who earns his harem instead of buying it,' Paros teased lightly.
Klein smirked. "Exactly."
Lucien glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You have a strange way of looking at the world, Klein. I can only hope you keep that fire as you grow."
"I will," Klein said, turning his gaze to the fading palace towers in the distance. "And one day, I'll build a better kingdom than this."
Then, the system hummed faintly in his head, almost as if acknowledging the thought.
[System Initialization: 88%...]