Kingdom's Bloodline, page 641
Taurus’s breathing quickened.
“You’re in your prime, but the future is dim. For the rest of your life, you can only be a third-class apprentice? Even when your manuscript is being reviewed anonymously, it keeps getting rejected?”
In the lecture hall, one was making backhanded queries, and the other was clinging to his thesis.
They faced each other in silence.
Taurus struggled to resume his breathing, “Listen, three years ago, if not for Master Donovan protecting me under pressure…”
But Macinta’s queries kept on coming, and pierced straight through his chest like a sword-style imbued with superpowers, “Don’t you feel indignant?”
The pretty boy’s tone was austere, like a prophet of god. “You are clearly ambitious and curious, but can only hide behind your mentor, handle some chores, quietly proofread and verify data for him?”
“And…” Macinta glanced around the lecture hall, “Maintaining Sound Replication Stones?”
Taurus clenched the rejected thesis tightly in his palms.
Macinta slowly reached out a hand. “Now you have a chance, to prove yourself,”
His tone was filled with temptation. “Join me. Return to the proper path of magic. Tell those who have rejected you that, one fine day, they will only be worthy of looking at your back.”
Taurus lowered his head, his expression unclear.
He slipped into complete silence.
Macinta was in no rush; he merely waited for Taurus quietly and patiently.
He seemed confident about the latter’s response.
However, a few seconds later, Taurus looked up and said, “I reject,”
The apprentice struggled with his words and he sounded them out gradually. “I’m happy here,” Taurus clung on to his thesis, his voice trembling, “I chose magic because I’m passionate about it, not for fame and fortune.”
Macinta was slightly surprised. “Really?”
The pretty boy started to re-evaluate Taurus. “You know that, for you, this will be a rare opportunity? At the very least, I will be able to provide you with an adequate income…”
Taurus interjected Macinta suddenly, “Listen here!” His expression was tense, and his knuckles were white from clutching on to the thesis. “I’m still busy. I have to prepare the facilities for the next lecture…”
The apprentice did not go on.
Macinta raised an eyebrow. “Alright,” he nodded and said regretfully, “What a pity.”
The pretty boy stared at the apprentice, but the latter kept mum, seemingly unmoved.
Macinta sighed and turned to leave.
Just as he was about to turn around, the silent Taurus shut his eyes tight and bit his lower lip.
As if he was suffering.
At that moment.
“Taurus.”
Macinta did not turn around. “I heard that you’re from a family of knights in the Chauvinistic Region, is that right?”
The apprentice’s expression changed.
Taurus looked up cautiously. “Why?”
“Nothing. I asked around at the tower,” Macinta was unhurried, and did not turn around either. “You have a fiancée who’s your childhood sweetheart. After adopting religion, she took an oath to serve the gods, broke the engagement, and became a nun for life?”
Fiancée.
Broke the engagement.
For a moment, Taurus’ mind froze.
The thesis in his arms was moaning in pain.
Macinta smiled.
“Hey, Muscle Man,” after a long pause, the spaced-out Taurus mumbled, “It’s none of your business.”
But Macinta was like a predator on the hunt. He caught the scent of blood of its prey and chased it down. “Well, you, dear Taurus, only tried to squeeze your way into a Magic Tower after the age of 18, and pledged to pursue the path of magic… yet you remained obsessed with explaining the mystic with magic, is it because of her?”
Taurus looked up suddenly and yelled, “Of course not!”
Macinta turned and looked at the mildly trembling apprentice with a subtle expression.
Taurus realized that his attitude was wrong.
He cleared his throat and made an effort to recompose his tone, “The, the direction of my research and my attitude towards it has always been such. It is not affected by anything outside of work.”
His tone was firm.
Unequivocal.
Macinta smiled. “Good then.”
He started to turn around again and said, intentionally or otherwise, “Oh, by the way, just so you know,”
“That nun fiancée of yours, due to her religious devotion and exceptional work, has been handpicked by a young bishop to be his personal assistant.”
Taurus froze.
“Ah what a coincidence. It’s Bishop Sigurd, who was an honored guest of His Majesty, the one I mentioned earlier.”
Macinta’s voice crept into his ears like the legendary whispers of the devil; he was defenseless.
“As a holy nun admired by believers, your fiancée—pardon, ex-fiancée—is deeply trusted, and bathes in god’s grace,”
“Dedicating herself.”
The air in the lecture hall crystallized.
After a long while.
“Fine. I get it,” the apprentice said vaguely.
Macinta looked at him as his tone turned grave again. “I’ll be leaving then,” the pretty boy said casually, “I wish you and your thesis the best of luck.”
Macinta turned around, strode forward and sighed spontaneously. “Those missionaries, they sure have a knack of bewitching people, don’t they?”
He walked away slowly.
No.
Taurus thought distractedly.
No.
She didn’t adopt religion because she was bewitched by a missionary.
It was because…
Because…
With a thump, the thesis in Taurus’ hands fell to the floor.
Taurus snapped out of his daze.
He bent down silently to pick up the thesis that was crumpled by him beyond recognition.
The thesis that was covered in red ink had a line of commentary on the top of its last page.
Although it was anonymously reviewed, this did not stop Taurus from recognizing his mentor’s handwriting:
Magic, ultimately, is about human knowledge.
Don’t lose your way in the infinite pursuit of curiosity and lose your heart.
Wizard Donovan.
Taurus’ breathing quickened.
About human knowledge…
His fists clenched tighter and tighter.
About human…
His heart raced faster and faster.
Human…
“Wait!”
Taurus voice rang throughout the lecture hall.
The footsteps stopped.
Macinta turned around slowly and looked at the apprentice with a calm expression.
“Joint Council scholar…”
Taurus panted heavily. He stared fixedly at the thesis in his hands, his expression shifting, as if hesitant, as if remorseful.
“Your research project or whatever the hell it is…”
A second later, Taurus looked up with a determined expression.
He chucked the parchment paper away decisively.
As if throwing out the past.
“When does it start?”
Macinta looked at the apprentice from a distance without answering, an inexplicable emotion in his eyes.
Until he beamed contently.
“Soon, my dear. Soon.”
Macinta’s smile was warm, but Taurus’ expression was cold.
“But don’t worry,”
“Trust me,” the pretty boy stared at the apprentice before him, his tone brimming with the satisfaction of a predator that had caught its prey, “we have plenty of time ahead of us.”
Chapter 540: Never Kneel |
When the king stepped into Mindis Hall, Thales struggled with his breathing.
He felt a slight chill as his knees planted onto the carpet of Mindis Hall.
The sound of numerous footsteps came from the front; one set was advancing steadily ahead while the others followed intermittently.
Thales heard his own breathing clearly and realized for the first time that it sounded so harsh.
“Rise, everyone,” a familiar voice ordered, dignified as before.
“This is a banquet, not the Imperial Conference—that bunch of old geezers is annoying enough.”
No one dared respond.
For a brief moment, it was as if the Duke of Star Lake was transported back to six years ago, when he first entered Mindis Hall naively.
It was the first time he met King Kessel. The solemn atmosphere seemed so heavy it could crack the floor tiles, which made the then child beggar uncomfortable and unable to speak.
Thales stared fixedly at the carpet pattern—there shouldn’t be any iron spikes below. The duke realized bitterly that, after six years of experience and hardship, when the same scene reappeared, the heaviness that he felt not only did not lessen at all but was instead more substantial.
King Nuven, King Chapman, of all his enemies that he dreaded, no one gave him such a feeling.
Why?
Why was it so?
Thales kept his head lowered.
From guests to attendants, guards to servants, everyone saluted in a low voice; the sound of people paying their respects could be heard incessantly.
But it did not relax Thales in the slightest.
Finally, those rustic but expensive boots stopped in front of him.
The base of the Staff of Constellation settled on the carpet, as if about to put down roots.
After what felt like a century, a palm appeared before Thales.
On the hand, the bronze ring signifying royal power glimmered slightly.
Thales briefly slipped into a daze: he saw the Iron Hand King walk into Hall of Stars at the National Conference six years ago, and the vassals of the kingdom kneeling and kissing his ring as a sign of loyalty.
The Duke of Star Lake took a deep breath. He removed his gloves and took the outreached palm as he prepared to kiss the king’s ring in accordance with etiquette.
But to Thales’ surprise, the king held his hand instead and stopped him.
Thales looked up in surprise. What he saw was a pair of profound blue eyes looking at him coldly and imposingly.
“When you were in the morth,” King Kessel spoke slowly, his tone regular but the content leaden, “in the face of King Nuven, in the face of the new king, in the face of the entire Eckstedt…”
“Did you kneel?”
Thales was shocked.
He met the gaze of those bottomless blue eyes for a second and felt the determination and dignity under them. He gulped and replied, “No,”
The youth added the address with much difficulty, “Your Majesty.”
The next instant, Thales felt a weight on his arms as he was hoisted involuntarily from the ground!
“Then don’t develop this bad habit,” Kessler said coldly. The imposing atmosphere seemed so cold it could freeze and condense on the walls.
Thales did not have time to react or think.
“As a Jadestar,” the king looked at his heir expressionlessly, “even if your legs have been incapacitated,”
“Never kneel.”
A fleeting bout of chatter formed amongst the crowd, then dissipated instantly to silence.
“Especially…” the Iron Hand King loosened his grip. He looked at the portraits of the Three Constellation Kings, paused, then looked up at the chandelier above and the interior furnishings of the hall, his emotions unreadable, “here.”
Thales, who was accustomed to the weighted aura that surrounded the king, was slightly taken aback.
He didn’t make me kneel, nor make me kiss his hand.
The supreme king of yesteryear with overwhelming vigor and steady strides.
Today, this…
The crowd that knelt in salute continued to bow their heads, their thoughts unknown.
Thales stared inquiringly at his father, but replied obediently, “Yes,”
He felt a shift in the atmosphere, and added spontaneously, “Father.”
King Kessel stared at him; he did not express an opinion but merely clutched his staff again.
The interaction between the king and the prince seemed like a command; the crowd around them gradually got up and performed their duties following the arrival of the king.
The royal guard commander that accompanied King Kessel, Lord Adrian, greeted Thales with a smile, then started to converse with Mallos in hushed tones.
Thales was still deep in thought, while King Kessel did not stop nor exchange greetings as he bypassed Thales and walked on.
As if what happened earlier was merely a brief interlude of the royal family.
Until the king stopped in his tracks, as he faced the only person in the hall who refused to kneel or salute and did not bother with pretense.
Val Arunde, like an unsightly pillar firmly anchored to the floor of Mindis Hall, was glaring at his old friend, not saying a word.
Thales could smell a faint sense of anxiety.
King Kessel did not speak either. He silently stared at the duke, occasionally shifting his gaze to glance at the latter’s shackles.
Their gaze met in mid-air.
In that moment, too much was embodied in their gazes.
Both were tacitly silent, which made the attendants around them anxious and awkward.
Until a gentle and pleasing voice of a woman broke the silence. “Unbelievable—is this young Thales?”
Thales turned around slowly to face a lady who had entered with the king and was escorted by a crowd of women.
He tensed up.
The lady was dressed extravagantly. Her demeanor was elegant yet lively. There was surprise in her eyes as she sized Thales up. “In a blink of an eye, years have passed. Look at you… Do you remember me?”
Thales looked behind the lady. Jines, dressed in the standard gown for female officials, nodded to him subtly with a solemn expression.
The youth grinned and took his stepmother’s hand with mixed yet nuanced emotions as he bowed. “Your Majesty, you remain graceful as ever.”
There was a glow in Queen Keya’s eyes. She looked at Thales then turned around and said to one of her escorts, “See, Elise, he recognized me at first sight. He was only a tiny little thing then…”
The queen was radiant, had a sweet smile, conversed fluently, and was natural and friendly, which gave everyone a good first impression.
If Thales had not seen her six years ago.
“Of course,” another lady with delicate features who had escorted the queen looked at Thales, “Prince Thales has always been known for his intelligence,”
The lady who wore a dark gown and a velvet shawl was equally elegant, with a touch more serenity.
“Even in the north.”
Thales silently stared at the velvet.
Keya held Thales’ hands as she took stock of him from head to toe. She let out a sigh and turned to Jines, and said in an annoyed tone, “Oh Jines, you should have let me bring the children. Perhaps Lydia is a little mischievous, but I could have at least brought Luther and let him learn from his brother, learn how to be a good prince…”
At the mention of those names, the smiles of the people around them froze.
Female Official Jines looked like she had been put on the spot. She exchanged a knowing look with the velvet-clad lady then said somewhat urgingly, “Keya…”
The servants that had traveled along from Renaissance Palace already had a tacit understanding; two female servants quietly stepped forward.
But the queen was still holding on to Thales and assessing him, unwilling to let go as she admired her stepson. “After all, they are children of the royal family, what shall I do with them when they grow up…”
At that moment.
“Keya,”
A deep voice called out, like the tightening of the city gate hinges.
The next instant, Queen Keya’s enthusiastic speech ceased.
She turned around with a timid expression and looked at the king’s back.
King Kessel silently reached out an arm.
The queen gave Thales an apologetic look before stepping forward obediently to hold her husband’s arm.
“Val,” Keya looked at Duke Val, who was standing across from the king, with a glow in her eyes, as if greeting an old friend, as if she did not notice the shackles on his hands, “How are you?”
The duke of the Northern Territory, who had been staring at King Kessel, was slightly taken aback. He looked at the queen, a frown dissipating as soon as it formed.
Finally, Val responded disdainfully, “Couldn’t be better.”
Upon those words, Duke Arunde turned around and walked towards the banquet hall without looking back; he did not need guidance, as if it was routine for him.
With a glance by Mallos, Gray Patterson and a few other guards in charge of escorting the prisoner followed closely behind and remained vigilant.
“Let’s go,” King Kessel stared at his childhood friend’s leaving figure and said in a somber tone, “Someone must be impatient.”
The king strode forward. Without any instruction from Guard Captain Adrian, the royal guards escorting His Majesty trailed silently from a side. Their expressions were unchanged and their postures natural, on point but not conspicuous.
In contrast, even if they were from the same source, whether it was grace or style, his Star Lake Guards…
“Is it just me,” behind Thales, Doyle carefully observed the scene of royal family greetings and whispered to Glover, “or did Mindis Hall really become colder?”
Glover glanced at the sweat forming on Doyle’s forehead and whispered in reply, “It’s not just you.”
Thales sighed.
In the next moment, he felt a grip on his left arm.
“Mind lending me an arm?”
Thales turned around startled. The lady with the velvet shawl was holding his arm with a smile.
“Aunt… Elise.”
Thales looked at the former king’s adopted daughter that he had met once six years ago with complex emotions. His gaze landed on her shoulder; he felt a phantom pain from a scar in his chest.
