Ten minutes slid by like a held breath.
Silence sank over the hall — thick, brittle silence that tasted of ash and cold iron. Tsukiko lay on the floor, small and stubborn against a world that had just tried to tear itself apart. Around us the soldiers stood like statues, boots planted, eyes hollowed by shock. My commanders and vice-commanders were on their knees, heads bowed, waiting for my next order as if any order could stitch the rift open by sheer will.
I was by her side the whole time, hands hovering uselessly above her shoulders, trying to be steady, to warm that fragile body. My voice kept wanting to break; my fingers kept trembling. I pressed my palm to her back and breathed for her when she couldn't. Ten more minutes crept past. Each second felt like a small eternity where our world might tilt again.
Then, slowly, Tsukiko gathered herself. She pushed herself up from the floor and — to my complete surprise — pushed me away.
For a moment a chill ran through me. I thought: maybe something else will happen now; maybe she truly doesn't trust me anymore. The doubt cut deeper than any blade. But then the truth came, quiet and sharp: I was wrong. And I couldn't be happier to have been wrong this time.
When she stood, there was a change — not weakness, but an iron in her bones. Her shoulders squared, her jaw set. The courage in her eyes was real: from this day forward, in the absence of her father and mother, the king and queen, she would stand and protect the kingdom. The mantle pressed on her, but she would not let it slip.
She turned to the soldiers and, with the voice of the princess they loved, she ordered them to keep everything private for now — to let this matter be contained until it could be solved. It was all a tough act; I could read the strain written on her face. She didn't want to show any pathetic, weak side to the troops — because if fear spread, the kingdom might fall.
I couldn't hold back. I interrupted: no need to do that — I'll cast a spell on them so they forget everything that happened here.
The words landed like a stone. A few heads turned; a flurry of unease passed through the ranks. Saying such a thing in that moment was reckless — even dangerous. I knew it. But the desperation in my chest was louder than my caution.
Tsukiko followed my lead. She looked at me with that strange, piercing ability she had to see through someone's will and heart. She trusted that there was a plan behind my recklessness. She knew — somehow — I might have a way.
I stepped forward, hands steadying, voice low but urgent as I addressed the soldiers: it might be the best option for now, for the kingdom. Everyone present wanted to protect this land; they wanted it more than their own comfort. We had to act. This could be the first step.
A soldier from the crowd snapped first, raw and loud: "there is no way in hell that I m trusting this guy who just arrived here 3 4 days ago.."
The shout echoed. Tension spiked like lightning ready to strike.
Tsukiko interrupted, her words falling like a calm order into the turmoil: "I m not asking you to trust him I m asking you to trust me your princess you guys love this kingdom as much as I do so I believe that you guys will agree to this i promise to resend your memories as the matter is solved."
Her authority carried weight. They listened because she was their princess, because loyalty is a fuse that can be relit by the one who wore the crown, and because she had asked them to believe in her. One by one, faces softened. "If you say so we will if it helps you solve this we will but we want revenge.." one answered, the hunger for justice clear in his voice.
I raised my voice, raw and resolute, and swore with everything I had: me crish swear on my life that ill get my revenge on hurting this kingdom and tsukiko.
Then I told them what I would do. "But for now ill cast a spell on you guys for you guys to forgot about what happened and command you to go continue your works just think that they( the ones who died and dissappeared)are out on a business proposal and won't be back for few months.." The words were rough, not polished, but honest. I shaped the spell around that lie — a soft, heavy veil to fall over their minds so they would go back to the life they knew and not let the shock undo everything.
I felt the magic curl through my fingers and sink into the room. The atmosphere loosened. Eyes glazed, shoulders relaxed. One by one, they turned, murmured among themselves like men waking from a bad dream, and left as if nothing had happened.
The room emptied, but in the quiet that followed there was no relief — only the hollowness after a storm. Twenty minutes of silence pressed on the chamber. No words. No movement. Just the echo of what had been done. It was only me and Tsukiko left.
My right-hand man still hadn't returned with the promised intel. Worry gnawed at me, but at that moment all that mattered was her. I stepped closer and pulled her into my arms, holding her like a child and an emperor at once. I hugged her to comfort her, promised her the things people tell in the dark to keep hope alive: that I would get revenge for them, for her, because they had hurt her.
Then, in a voice that trembled with truth, I told her everything — the truth about yesterday, about how her father had ordered Saigo to kill me. Her shock was immediate, a fresh wound laid bare. She absorbed the truth, but her trust — born from that power that read hearts — remained. Even as the news shattered her, she still believed in me. But inside, she was breaking. The fierce facade she had held up for the soldiers melted away the moment we were alone.
I could feel the urge to cry, but if both of us collapsed mentally at once, everything would fall with us. So I swallowed that emotion and steadied myself. I made a promise, softened but ironclad: no matter what, I'll always be on your side, protecting you.
"I need to be watching," I said quietly, explaining the cost to her: I might faint for a few moments while I unraveled truths. I would have to take my trials one by one. But there was no time to crawl through each small test; the danger was too immediate. This time I would risk more. I would unlock a portion of my strength all at once — seventy percent — and bear the consequences.
The memory of Karna's warning sat heavy in my mind: if you try to haphazardly unlock more powers at once you might not be able to come back we might again have to wait for you reincarnation but it might destroy everything you find dear right now special the girl you tressure right now..
Those words were a chain and a key. I knew the risk: bones might break, muscles might tear, my heart might crush. Reincarnation could be the only return. But when the safety of the kingdom and the woman who had become everything to me rested on the scale, I could not choose half measures.
I braced myself, feeling the cold prelude of power gathering under my skin — a wound and a weapon both. Tsukiko pressed closer, not in fear this time but in an odd, silent solidarity. She had given me her trust, and I would carry that trust like a banner into whatever storm came next.
Outside, the corridors of the palace held their breath. Inside, two people stood on the edge of a decision that would change everything: the kingdom's fate, her future, and mine. I tasted iron and ash on my tongue and, for a moment, felt the whole world hinge on the next choice.
I closed my eyes, let the power flare, and accepted the break it might leave in me — because some things are worth being broken for.
To be continued....