A Striking Initiation (Part 4)
“You’re quick on the uptake, but you have no tact,” the man scoffed at Oliver’s remark.
“I believe I told you never to let that name cross your lips.”
Though he wore a faint smile, the pressure radiating from his towering frame was nothing short of murderous. Caught in its wake, the scribe from the Emperor’s Palace was breaking out in a cold sweat. For some time now, these men had lingered before the imperial gates, making no move to enter while casually chatting amongst themselves, putting the poor official in an agonizing position.
Yet he dared not raise a single objection to the man before him. He was merely an imperial scribe, while the man facing him was the ruler of an entire realm.
Hegemon of the West. The Wolf King. The Rebel Sovereign. The Sword Emperor. The epithets preceding his name numbered in the dozens—and not a soul across the continent was ignorant of them.
“…My apologies, Sire,” Oliver murmured.
Only after receiving his adjutant’s apology did the man rein in his bloodlust. Turning back toward the trembling scribe, he flashed an easy grin.
“Kept you waiting. You may announce us now.”
The scribe snapped back to his senses only upon hearing the sovereign’s voice. “F-Forgive me, Your Majesty! I shall announce you at once!”
Gathering what little courage he possessed, the balding scribe drew a sharp breath and bellowed toward the grand hall,
“Presenting His Majesty, King Kaiden Ram of the Kingdom of Adamant!”
The young monarch who had crushed the venerable Western powerhouse of Lionel and swallowed whole dozens of surrounding nations—Kaiden Ram, the first king of the newly established Adamant Kingdom—strode into the Emperor’s Palace with an imposing, unyielding gait.
Behind him marched his adjutant, Oliver, accompanied by dozens of knights clad in pitch-black plate armor. It was an awe-inspiring spectacle, evocative of a prowling pack of black wolves.
“I greet His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of the Ventrum Empire.”
Though polite, the tone bore not a shred of servility or flattery. Emperor Carvelius III looked down at the man kneeling on one knee before his dais.
‘Kaiden Ram, the first king of Adamant.’
The man before him was currently the most renowned figure on the continent. Public fascination burned ferociously around this young ruler, who had toppled the seemingly eternal might of Lionel Kingdom to crown himself master of the West.
“You have traveled far and endured much hardship. The Empire extends its warmest welcome to the King of Adamant.”
With a gentle gesture of the Emperor’s hand, Kaiden rose slowly to his feet. A relaxed smile graced his lips as he accepted the imperial greeting.
“The honor is mine, Your Imperial Majesty. My knights were thoroughly exhausted after subjugating the horde of demonic creatures nearby, but thanks to Your Majesty’s gracious invitation to the imperial palace, we can now rest comfortably.”
The knights of the newly born Adamant Kingdom, personally led by Kaiden, were celebrated as elite specialists in monster subjugation. Composed of brilliant survival strategists who possessed peerless swordsmanship and understood the ecology of demonic beasts inside and out, the order often undertook mercenary contracts from foreign nations—just as they had today.
“There is no need for thanks. It is only natural that I extend hospitality to those who spare no effort in fulfilling the Empire’s request.” The Emperor smiled down upon Kaiden, who stood tall beneath the dais. “Now then, how long do you intend to stay?”
“A week at most, I imagine.”
“My word. I had hoped you might stay longer, but one cannot presume to detain the sovereign of another realm against his will.”
“My apologies, Sire.” Kaiden flashed a grin that bared his teeth. “When the Founding Day Festival arrives, I shall make every effort to overstay my welcome, even if Your Majesty tells me to get the hell out.”
The civil officials gathered in the audience chamber gasped at his brazen choice of words. It seemed the rumors were true: an uncouth lowborn of unknown pedigree who had merely carved his way to a throne with a sword.
“Hahahaha!”
Yet the Emperor burst into hearty laughter, seemingly amused by his unfiltered candor.
“Very well! You must be exhausted from your journey, so go ahead and take your rest.”
“I thank Your Imperial Majesty for your benevolence.”
Kaiden placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head slightly. It was an impeccably refined courtly bow, so polished that one could hardly believe it came from the same man who had casually uttered profanities just moments before.
“Ugh, I want to go back to Adamant already.”
To think they had to spend a whole week cooped up in a foreign emperor’s palace. Oliver, a knight of Adamant and Kaiden’s adjutant, stretched his arms wide with a groan.
“Still, I was surprised the Emperor treated us so amicably. I was half expecting him to humiliate us at least once with jabs about our lack of legitimacy or lowly pedigree.”
“Anyone else might have room to speak, but the Emperor is the last person on earth who could question my legitimacy.”
“Ah, right.” Oliver scratched his temple as if just remembering. “He was the late Emperor’s youngest son, wasn’t he? I forgot he took the throne by butchering every single one of his brothers and sisters.”
“Even so, he carries the imperial bloodline. Legitimacy aside, he undoubtedly looks down on me as an upstart without roots.”
Recalling that polished, unreadable countenance that hid every shred of disdain made Kaiden’s stomach turn. Resting one hand on the hilt of his sword, he strode down the hall without pause. As a massive man with an immense stride, keeping pace with him was an ordeal in itself.
“By the way, my Lord… do you truly believe that woman is still alive?”
It had been more than a decade since their single, fleeting encounter. What was worse, the woman Kaiden sought was no longer among the living.
“If you ask me…” Oliver lowered his voice, his expression tightening with awkward unease. “I can’t help but think that mad black magician swindled you, Sire.”
Dark magic to resurrect the dead? No matter how one turned it over in their head, it defied all reason.
“And even if she were revived, how on earth are you going to find her? They said she could return in an entirely different form, didn't they?”
“He told me that anyone brought back bears a mark. I just have to find it.”
“You mean that damn Ouroboros mark? We can hardly strip down every woman in the world to search for a cursed snake brand, can we?” Oliver scratched the back of his head, letting out an exasperated sigh. “And surely you haven't forgotten what happened back in the kingdom the moment rumors spread that Your Majesty was looking for a woman with such a mark on her body?”
Adamant’s young, handsome, and overwhelmingly powerful king was unwed. Desperate to wedge themselves into the sovereign’s inner circle, nobles had gone so far as to forcibly tattoo their own daughters with the Ouroboros symbol.
“It doesn't matter,” Kaiden replied, completely unbothered.
“I’ll recognize the real one the moment I lay eyes on her.”
Lying in bed, sleep eluded Edwin.
Tossing and turning, the young prince found his thoughts drifting back to the events of earlier that day.
“It doesn't make sense.”
Today had truly been a strange day.
‘Why did she help me?’
A scowl formed on his brow as he pictured his new nanny. Despite her gentle appearance, the woman who had arrived a fortnight ago was cold and utterly detached. Until yesterday, whether he played childish pranks or threw petty tantrums, she had watched him with empty, indifferent eyes—almost as if he were looking at someone who possessed no soul at all.
“…It really doesn't make sense.”
To think that the person who retrieved the bracelet stolen by Gale and his gang was none other than that very nanny.
Edwin glanced down at the bracelet hanging loosely around his wrist. Made of imitation pearls and faux rubies, it was a cheap trinket one might find sold by street hawkers. Though he had lost it briefly after falling prey to Gale's trickery, to Edwin, it was more precious than anything in the world.
It was all because of Emma, the nanny who had left this bracelet to him.
‘Please do not cry, Your Highness. I have always loved your smile.’
Edwin recalled the last words Emma had spoken to him.
‘No matter how bitter or sorrowful life becomes, you must never lose your smile. That way, when true happiness comes, you can smile with all your heart.’
As if knowing it was truly their final parting, she had slipped the bracelet into the little prince’s palm and wrapped her hands tightly around his.
‘I leave you with my final wish…’
Though his vision had been blurred with tears, he knew without doubt that Emma had been smiling.
‘You must be happy, Prince Edwin. Promise me.’
Be happy.
Why did adults always leave behind promises that were impossible to keep?
Edwin thought of his late mother. His mother, the Third Imperial Consort Edith, had been a frail and sickly woman. In Edwin’s memories, she was forever confined to her bed. As a result, they had scarcely spent enough time together to nurture any semblance of maternal affection. Furthermore, Edith had been terribly indifferent toward her son.
When he was very young, the bitter ache of that neglect had brought him to tears more times than he could count. Had Emma not stepped in to fill the void left by his mother, he might have spent his entire childhood weeping in solitude.
Perhaps that was why Edwin had not felt much grief when his mother passed away shortly after giving birth to his little sister. He had merely felt pity for the newborn sibling who would grow up never knowing her mother’s face.
Yet when the only woman who had ever taken his side in this cruel world departed, leaving behind nothing but an empty promise and a cheap bracelet, Edwin had wept for three whole days.
Because reality had finally set in: the guardian who had always stood watch over him was gone, far beyond the reach of his small hands.
‘Emma was an idiot.’
Edwin bit down on his lower lip.
He knew all too well that he could never be happy, nor was he permitted to be. A powerless prince possessing rights of succession was a pariah whom no one welcomed. That was why he had assumed the new nanny would detest him as well. After all, who would willingly take on the thankless task of nursing a prince despised by everyone?
And true to expectation, she had shown zero interest in him until now.
‘Yet today was different.’
She had subdued Gale’s gang in a flash when they dared to mock him, and even threatened them with chilling authority. That was something even Emma, the only person who had ever cherished him, could never have done.
“…It’s just so strange.”
Edwin pulled the blanket over his head, burying himself in the dark. A tickling warmth fluttered deep in his chest—an unfamiliar feeling, yet one he found he did not entirely dislike.