Debut of the Entertainment World's Top Star
Now that the top stars of the entertainment world, Estial and Int, had given their approval, the last one left was the third prince, Jal.
"Isn't it already over since two princes have agreed? We can just force the last one..." Cliche asked, sounding annoyed and lazy.
Roin shook her head with an apologetic look. "The Gold Lion Knights who support big brother Jal are the kingdom's core military force. And Jal is my precious brother too."
"Jeez."
"Please."
Cliche smacked his lips at Roin's desperate plea, her hands clasped together in supplication.
After a late lunch, the entire Pink Dragon Knights headed to the eastern palace where the third prince Jal resided.
"Whoa, is this a palace or El Dorado?" Roin gasped in awe at the opulence of Jal's residence. Everything gleamed with gold and jewels—draped curtains, ornate pottery, the floors, even the carpets. There were maids everywhere, all decked out in silk, gems, and fragrant perfumes.
"Hi? We're here to see my brother."
Roin greeted one of the maids, who looked young and startled, shouting back, "We'll escort you shortly!"
Rumors spread fast in the palace. The news that Roin had bested the first and second princes had completely flipped the maids' attitudes—a full 180 degrees from before. No longer did they look at her like some fallen royal; now she was the frontrunner for the throne!
Soon, the Pink Dragon Knights were led into the lavishly decorated inner chambers.
"Long time no see, little sis?"
Jal lounged on red cushions, draped in flashy silk robes. Dozens of ornate mirrors reflected his image from every angle.
"Thrilling! Always so fresh. Being handsome is the best!"
He admired himself in the mirrors, then shot a seductive wink at Cliche standing behind Roin.
"...What the hell?" Cliche frowned.
Jal burst into giggles. "Don't hate it so obviously. I like anyone pretty and cute, regardless of gender."
Soon, Jal rose from the cushions to greet Roin properly.
"I heard. You beat our brothers, huh?"
"What did I even do? It was all thanks to the Pink Dragon Knights."
"Aw, so humble. I heard you did it all on your own."
Cliche slowly nodded at that. If she became queen, she'd face all sorts of scrutiny about her qualifications. Painting a picture where Roin achieved everything solo might look better for the narrative.
But Jal wasn't budging easily. "Sorry, but I can't yield the throne."
Roin's eyebrow twitched at his declaration of war.
Jal continued, eyeing her. "You've got brains and brawn. But you're missing one thing."
"What?"
Jal traced a V-shape along his jaw and collarbone with his finger. "Cha.rac.ter.is.tics."
Roin's face twisted in bewilderment. From behind, Kubelin Hotse muttered "fucking idiot" under her breath while chugging booze.
Jal pointed at Roin dramatically. "A king must be more beautiful, cooler, and sexier than anyone! They have to be an idol for the people—especially a queen! Have you ever seen an ugly queen in a fairy tale!?"
"Plenty in history books..."
"Not history books! Fairy tales!"
"Well, no."
"See!? Only a perfectly beautiful queen can give children dreams, fantasies, hope, and peace! If she's not beautiful, she's no queen! Got it?"
Jal shouted. Behind him, Unicef nodded eagerly at the mention of children's rights, her eyes sparkling.
"Ho ho ho. No idea what nonsense it is, but sounds good."
A vein pulsed on Roin's forehead. "No... what does being queen have to do with prettiness? This is extreme looks-ism."
Plus, his assumption that she was ugly pissed her off subtly.
But Jal stayed in his own world. "A queen has to be pretty. And she needs everyone's attention. Roin, you're cute, but too young. You'll bloom after thirty at least. The throne suits this big bro perfectly, so you go be a legion commander or finance minister. I hear you're as smart as Int and as strong as Estial."
"No, that won't do."
Roin dismissed it outright, hands on hips, enunciating clearly. "The king you describe is basically an idol. How could that rule a country?"
"..."
"To give starving people even one more loaf of bread, you need efficient governance. Look at your room—it's all luxury junk!"
"..."
"Right now, pirates press from the north, monster hordes from the west, and the great empire of Midland from the east. Are you ready to fight them?"
"..."
Battered by facts, Jal pouted sulkily.
Roin sighed softly at her immature brother.
Then Jal wailed, "Hey! You think I want to be king!?"
What now? Everyone perked up at his bombshell.
Tears welling, he spilled his heart. "I love dancing and singing! I love the spotlight!"
"Beep! Attention whore."
Roin quickly covered AlphaGo's mouth.
Jal's monologue continued. "But I'm royalty! I can't be an entertainer! So as a royal, what's the role that gets the most eyes? King, right!? I hate arranged marriages, sitting high up with a stern face, just exuding dignity! Screw the stern face—I want to dance and sing on stage!"
He cried out desperately. Come to think of it, during the knights' sports day, he'd wanted to be a cheerleader but got chewed out by his brothers.
"..."
Roin could only look at him with pity.
Then Cliche stepped forward. "What's royalty anyway? Just don't do it."
"...?"
Jal looked up, eyes brimming with tears.
"If you don't want to, don't. Quit if you wanna quit."
"I-is that allowed?" Jal stammered.
"Eee, these days young'uns~~ don't know how important bloodlines are~~ gotta dry up the blood in their thick skulls to wake 'em up~~"
Hotse grumbled in dialect, but Cliche ignored her and nodded. "I'll make you an entertainer."
Jal's eyes filled with hope.
* * *
The entertainment agency PYJ, home to bards of renown, was undisputedly the kingdom's top label. Its president, Mr. Goril, sat at his desk looking troubled. The massive window beside him was shattered.
Cliche had burst in by smashing the wall of the president's office in this skyscraper. How he'd reached the top floor in one go was a mystery to Goril.
"I want to debut this guy." Cliche pointed at Jal.
Jal stood rigidly tense, shoulders hunched, chest caved in—nothing like his lounging palace self.
Goril eyed him up and down skeptically. "Looks aren't bad... and that face seems familiar. Eerily so."
"So, will you debut him or not?"
"This pink-haired punk's got some fire. How can I debut without seeing anything?"
Goril cleared his throat and extended a hand to Jal. "Show me something."
"Huh?"
"Dance, sing—anything!"
This was already hugely generous; trainees downstairs would kill for a second in his gaze.
For Jal, hearing casual speech his whole life was new, but he stepped forward unfazed.
"My blood, sweat, tears, snot! My dying breath! Gaaaaah!"
Jal danced and sang. His high notes were pleasing, choreography sharp. His dazzling looks amplified it all.
But that was it. The song lost steam, the moves grew sloppy. He was peeking at Goril's reaction.
"Hmmm..."
Goril glared sharply. Jal's confidence crumbled, hitting sour notes twice before finishing.
Goril reached for his buzzer. "Mr. Jal..."
"..."
"We..."
"..."
"Together..."
"..."
"Can't..."
"..."
"Go..."
Irritated by Goril's dramatic pauses, Hotse drew her kukri—the same blade that smashed the wall on entry.
Goril blurted hastily, "Can't go together!"
Unexpected rejection. Roin and the Pink Dragon members looked disappointed. Jal's face was devastated; he collapsed to the floor.
"Face, body, proportions—all top-tier, but no confidence? Without strong mentality and self-esteem, you can't hack it as a bard." Goril tsked, grabbing his briefcase.
Cliche glanced at Unicef. Their eyes met mid-air.
Unicef sighed and nodded.
Cliche blocked Goril, who was rising with his 007 bag. "Can you take another look?"
"Sorry, I'm busy..."
"Busy eating bananas? Look properly."
Cliche pressed Goril's chest firmly. Overwhelmed by the force, Goril sweated and sat back down.
"Fine... try again."
A bit more compliant, Goril beckoned Jal.
"Can I really do this?"
"This is the chance you've waited for! You're out of the palace—who'd guess you're a prince? Just go for it!"
"But..."
Even Roin's encouragement didn't help. As the utterly deflated Jal staggered up, thud! Someone grabbed his shoulder—Unicef.
Flash! Warm light from her hand enveloped him. A sweet scent wafted.
"What's this?"
Unicef smiled. "Ho ho ho. 9th-circle Charm Magic. Succubus queens use it mostly; I rarely do."
"Ch-charm magic?"
"Ho ho ho. Yes. Semi-permanent, so relax."
Jal stared at himself blankly. Face slimmer, shoulders broader, legs longer by centimeters. Skin flawless in the mirror.
"Thank you! Thank you!" Forgetting royal dignity, he bowed repeatedly to Unicef, then dashed to Goril.
"Uh-oh?"
Goril, frowning, looked up at the transformed Jal.
Then Jal's dance and song began.
"Ooh! Uh-oh! Epic!"
Goril jumped up, dancing wildly along—knocking over his 007 bag. Bananas spilled out.
Watching them, Roin asked Unicef, who beamed contentedly, "That magic's semi-permanent, right?"
"Ho ho ho. Yes, until death."
"His skills improved suddenly, which is great... but growth without cost worries me. Hope no innocent trainees get hurt."
Unicef turned, grinning. "Ho ho ho. Know what spell I cast?"
"...?"
"Ho ho ho. Placebo."
"Huh?"
Roin blinked; Unicef giggled.
"Ho ho ho. No real magic at all."
"Then that was...?"
"Ho ho ho. Pure 100% his own talent." Unicef winked.
Roin's face lit up.
* * *
"Unconditional pass! Stamp the contract—or sign if no stamp!"
Goril's enthusiasm simplified everything. Jal hugged Roin, sobbing. "Thanks, Roin! All thanks to you!"
"You earned it yourself."
"Tell that Unicef savior thanks too. This magic's awesome! Look—my dancing's perfect!"
Watching Jal bounce excitedly, Roin smiled maternally. She truly hoped he'd achieve his dream.
Hidden in palace mystique, Prince Jal was unknown to the public. Who'd expect highborn royalty to chase bard life?
"Still crave the throne?" Roin teased.
Jal sobered, covering her mouth. "Shh! If they learn I'm royal, Goril might bail from pressure! No more 'king' talk—not even the initial consonant!"
"I-initial conso..."
The siblings' eyes met close-up. Poke. Laughter exploded.
Once started, it poured out uncontrollably. They laughed face-to-face for a good long while.