Battle for the Throne (2)
1st Prince Estial, 2nd Prince Int, and 3rd Prince Jal sat in their chairs, waiting.
Before long, a single woman entered the conference room. Cascading blue hair and sapphire-blue eyes that gleamed like jewels. It was none other than Hi Os Roin, the 1st Princess of the kingdom and the late king's fourth child.
"Father has passed, yet you still haven't held his funeral."
Roin spoke in a cold voice the moment she saw her brothers' faces.
2nd Prince Int replied with an impassive expression. "Isn't this a rare chance for us all to meet? Show some respect."
"Who's not showing respect? You brothers. Why haven't you held Father's funeral yet?"
At that, 1st Prince Estial snorted derisively. "That's exactly what's giving us headaches. Traditionally, the next king reads the eulogy at the late king's funeral. But we haven't decided who's ascending the throne, so there's no one to do it."
Appointing someone temporarily could give them a claim to the throne. No one dared risk letting another brother take that role lightly.
Hearing this, Roin gaped in disbelief. "You're delaying the funeral indefinitely over something so absurd?"
"Hey! Absurd? Don't you know how crucial this is!?"
"But if there wasn't something even more pressing, I wouldn't say it. You all know who Father always said should be king, don't you?"
At Roin's question, all three princes flinched. And for good reason—the late king had a habit of saying it constantly.
'Isn't it about time we had a queen? Heh heh heh.'
In truth, among his four children, the late king had doted on Roin the most. If war hadn't loomed and forced her hasty evacuation, she might have become queen. Just as they were about to bring her back, the king's condition worsened, and he collapsed—after clearly instructing his sons to fetch Roin. But none had time for his dying wish amid their mutual suspicions.
"Father favored me most! A king leads by example! He always praised my valor at the front lines as steadfast and reliable."
"Father trusted me the most. A king must view state affairs coolly. From my seat, I see a thousand miles ahead and plan a century into the future. Perfect king material."
"You're both wrong, brothers. Don't you remember Father always taking me on diplomatic trips abroad? It's my dazzling looks—they make people warm to me instantly. That's true royal charisma."
The three princes started by touting their strengths, voices rising, but soon shifted to tearing each other down.
"Int, you rely too much on that brain of yours. Think everything bends to your schemes? That's textbook armchair governance! Without real battle experience, you'll never be a veteran. A bookworm on the throne would weaken the whole nation!"
"That's your view, brother. Does brute force solve everything? Maybe it worked on the battlefield by luck, but in actual governance? Useless. A king directs calmly from behind—not charging ahead. What if an accident happens?"
1st Prince Estial and 2nd Prince Int ripped into each other viciously.
"Ugh, screw this. I just wanna go get a facial. Got wrinkles under my eyes lately..."
3rd Prince Jal sighed, closing his eyes. He clearly hated and was annoyed by the whole mess.
"Enough. Let's drop it. This is going nowhere."
1st Prince Estial took charge again. "Quit yapping. Like we just said—let's settle the throne with an athletic tournament."
Roin's eyes widened. "An athletic tournament?"
2nd Prince Int nodded wearily. "Yeah. Minimizes national drain while testing our factions' strength. Roin, you joining?"
Roin scoffed. "You're deciding the throne that casually?"
"Time's short. Can't have civil war among brothers. Father's funeral needs to happen soon, or it's a national embarrassment. Festival's coming anyway—perfect for a unity tournament."
"Father's funeral isn't even done!"
"That's why we'll keep it low-key, away from the public eye. Hate it? Sit it out."
At 2nd Prince Int's words, Roin looked utterly baffled. Beside him, 1st Prince Estial and 3rd Prince Jal nodded in agreement.
"Come to think of it, you had escorts when leaving the palace, right? No issue competing."
"That was wartime—short-staffed, so mostly squires. Their skills might be iffy for a tournament. Why not forfeit?"
The three princes smirked at Roin.
"......"
Roin bit her lip. 1st Prince Estial: warmonger. 2nd Prince Int: schemer. 3rd Prince Jal: ignored governance for showbiz. Any of them king spelled chaos for the kingdom.
Father...
Roin closed her eyes, picturing her father. She couldn't let his hard-built nation fall into shadow.
Soon, her eyes snapped open, resolve firm. "I'll enter the tournament."
The three princes burst out laughing. "Hahaha! Roin, don't overreach. Face my Red Bulls Knights in the tournament, and your minions turn to dust. If you even have any."
"Don't waste talent on pride. Black Yack Knights show no mercy."
"Hehe! One more snack for my Gold Lion Knights."
But Roin stood firm against the threats. "I'll join too. I'll uphold Father's will."
"......"
The princes fell silent as if on cue. After a beat of quiet...
"......Fine. Write your knight order's name here."
2nd Prince Int slid a paper toward Roin.
[1st Prince Estial - Red Bulls Knights]
[2nd Prince Int - Black Yack Knights]
[3rd Prince Jal - Gold Lion Knights]
Usually, knight orders combined a color and animal—continent-wide tradition. Midland Empire's Black Dog Knights were legendary.
"......"
Roin pondered briefly, then picked up the pen and wrote deliberately.
[1st Princess Roin - Pink Dragon Knights]
* * *
Cliche and his crew were now in the market of Acre, Rok Kingdom's capital.
Acre sat southwest in Rok, a key geopolitical hub since ancient times. Markets and entertainment districts everywhere kept it from pristine, but it buzzed with lively energy.
A towering clock tower dominated the city center—a massive stone structure from Acre's founding. Old tracks encircled it, with a rickety train looping the city twice daily.
"So many humans."
Cliche marveled at the crowds. Kubelin Hotse, Unicef, and even Diablo shared his awe. But AlphaGo stayed nonchalant—her old home had way more, apparently.
"Get used to this, or you'll faint in Midland on the central continent."
Roin chuckled, taking Cliche's hand and leading him. Fresh from the palace, she'd brought him to the southern market to prep the new Pink Dragon Knights for the tournament.
"Need horses for mounted combat, armor for dodgeball..."
Roin guided the group, sightseeing while outlining plans.
"Starting tomorrow, I'll vie for succession rights. You're now the Pink Dragon Knights—keep that in mind."
"Tomorrow it really starts, huh."
Cliche nodded. Roin needed queenship fast to unlock the palace stores.
"Our... Roin... become... king~~?"
"Ho ho ho. Queen at least, or it's embarrassing to invite you to parties."
"Heh. To the highest peak, traveler. Cheers to your thorny path."
"Beep! Queen [noun] 1. Female monarch. 2. Figuratively, a central female figure or phenomenon in a domain..."
Hotse, Unicef, Diablo, and AlphaGo seemed indifferent but went along with Roin's vibe.
"Shop here, then to my palace villa."
At Roin's word, Cliche's group—no, the Pink Dragon Knights—explored the market.
Throngs filled the traditional bazaar. The thrill? Haggling. Hunting deals, bargaining down prices—pure fun and savings.
"Aigoo, granny! Scratches on this mithril helmet! Knock off 500 gold!"
"Aigoo, not an orange—what scratches on a mithril helm?!"
"Fresh rare items here! Bleeding rares!"
"Orichalcum shield, fire sale! +5 enchanted!"
Friendly banter echoed everywhere. Amid it, the market's famed foul-mouthed granny's fruit stall roared as usual.
"Ah, their gukbap's killer!"
Roin, nostalgic from childhood, headed inside. "Granny! Six bowls of gukbap!"
The granny's colorful curses flew. "Yeah, go tell that to some stray dog."
Hotse nearly drew her sword, but Roin stopped her.
Soon, the stall's signature gukbap arrived. Milky broth with rice, meat, heaps of mint, and pineapple chunks floating.
"Mmm. Pineapple in gukbap? Not pizza, but unique flavor."
All savored it, impressed. This kingdom had some quirky customs.
Meanwhile, Roin and the Pink Dragon Knights began plotting strategies for tomorrow's tournament.