Kingdom's Bloodline, page 660
Sacrificing a pawn.
Checkmate.
Sacrificing whose pawn?
Checkmate against whom?
Doyle was still breathing distractedly and occasionally muttering something.
But Anker was tired of waiting.
“Answer me! Son of Doyle! Do you dare accept my challenge to a fair duel?”
The hostage-taker’s fury and the old baron’s wails of pain stimulated the nerves of the crowd and created another wave of uproar.
“Perhaps I can start with this old varmint’s limbs!
“See how much blood he’s got in him!”
As Anker moved his blade towards the baron’s wrist, Thales tensed up.
Shit.
“Alright,” seeing Doyle in a state of panicked confusion, Vogel scoffed at Mallos. “If you are unwilling to get your hands dirty, watchman, then I’ll do it.”
He turned towards his own subordinates.
“Gather the Flag Bearer Division, pick four of them. I want the best snipers…”
But in the next moment, a loud and bright voice interrupted them all.
“Duke Thales!”
The banquet hall fell silent.
Everyone looked towards the speaker.
It was Doyle.
The person who had shouted the duke’s name was not Anker, but Doyle.
He slowly looked up, there was no longer confusion in his gaze.
But instead there was a layer of gloom.
“Give the order, Your Grace!” Doyle yelled. Everyone could hear him clearly.
But Thales could hear agony in his voice.
“I, Danny Doyle, son of the Baron of Mirror River!”
Under the gaze of the entire hall, Doyle took a step forward and continued through gritted teeth, “For the sake of my father and family, in accordance with ancient customs of the Empire, witnessed by Duke Thales and everyone present, I am willing to accept his challenge.
“And duel to the death against this despicable scum!”
Thales looked at his personal guard incredulously, then turned to Mallos.
But the latter seemed to have anticipated this; he was indifferent.
Doyle glared at Anker, who had a goading and eager look, and avoided looking at his stunned father.
“I am willing to defend our honor and reputation,” Doyle said mechanically, as if his mouth wasn’t his, “As long as…you release my father.”
After he finished this sentence, Doyle, who was drenched in cold sweat, swayed as if he had been deflated.
Until Glover held on to him.
The guests were initially silent, but a small commotion broke out right after.
Controversy filled the hall again.
“Very well, very well!”
“There’s still a man in the Doyle family, I see.”
The Anker who had received a response looked at the dazed Doyle and grinned. But Thales could not sense any happiness or satisfaction from him.
Only a different kind of desolation.
Thales said through gritted teeth, “Doyle…”
Vice-captain Vogel pursed his lips and looked at Doyle with a complex gaze.
Mallos was equally silent, but his expression was much calmer.
“No, no, no!”
In the hall, the old baron who was being held hostage by Anker could no longer be bothered about his pain and embarrassment. He shouted exasperatedly, “Kid, what…what foolishness is this!”
Doyle snapped out of it and glanced at his father, forcing a weak smile.
The old baron looked towards his wife in a panic. “Dear, stop him, stop him, quick!”
But the baroness was also in shock. She looked around frantically, but only received sympathy in return.
“Your Highness? Anyone? Anyone?”
Panic-stricken, the old baron said in a tearful voice, “Anyone! Stop that unfilial son. Knock him out! The Doyles will repay your deed, heavily!”
“I will gift you half, no, forty percent of my income this year! Forty percent? Alright, half then! Sixty percent? Seventy percent?”
The baron’s yells echoed between the pillars. Apart from the flickering lights, there was no reply.
Despondent and helpless.
At this sight, Thales felt an indescribable sadness.
But he could not reveal it.
He had to maintain the most elegant, most transcendent, and most noble posture.
Because he was the second prince.
The Duke of Star Lake.
Under the spotlight of countless gazes, Doyle took a deep breath, adjusted himself, and strode forward.
“Byrael! I have accepted your challenge!” Doyle roared at Anker, “Now, let my father go. I’ll play with you!
“Let’s put an end to our grievances!”
Anker smiled.
He did not release the old baron, but instead turned towards Thales.
“Duke Thales. Your Highness?
“The instigator and opponent of the duel are both present. Only the noble witness is left.”
There was hunger, anticipation, desperation, and madness in Anker’s gaze.
Doyle turned around and saw a rare gloom in Thales’ eyes.
The old baron stared at him and shook his head frantically, pleading with his eyes.
The royal guards looked at him, their expressions low-key and restrained with no discernable demands.
“Your Highness.”
Vogel quietly stepped forward to his side. “This is an obligatory righteousness, and a necessary evil.”
Mallos too, sighed. “At the critical moment, it’s a pawn that must be sacrificed.”
Thales clenched his fists.
Sacrificing a pawn.
This fucking pawn-sacrificing business again.
Pawn.
The guests eyed him in a rapacious and overbearing manner, an assortment of emotions in their gazes.
Countless gazes focused aggressively on the prince, awaiting his response.
Zayen seemed to be subtly relishing the situation, Koshder looked austere, whereas Val looked at Thales with no discernable emotion.
The Seven Jadestar Attendants stared fixedly at him, as if the prince’s decision will be an irrefutable edict.
No one knew that, what Thales—who was expressionless—wanted to do most was sit down, bury his head, shut his eyes and ignore every gaze and voice.
And let his subordinates handle the troublesome situation.
This way, he might be able to conceal his cornered and clueless moment with the unassailable dignity of the royal family.
But he could not.
Because he was the second prince.
He could not.
He was the Duke of Star Lake.
“Your Highness, announce it.”
Doyle’s words were somewhat listless, like a terminal patient who had lost hope.
“Let it come, the sooner the better.
“And save yourself the trouble.”
Thales’ expression was blank but he was agonizing inside.
Alright.
The sooner the better.
Save the trouble.
Finally, after a few seconds (but to Thales seemed like an eternity), the Duke of Star Lake, maintaining his most proper and noble posture, stood up slowly and said loudly, “Anker Byrael,”
At the sound of his voice, everyone in the hall, from officials to bureaucrats, from nobles to traders, listened carefully to the returning prince’s words, and exhibited—at least superficially—uniform obedience.
“In the name of the Duke of Star Lake of Constellation, the second prince, Thales Jadestar,”
The duke’s deep voice garnered respect from the crowd, but only those who had served him for long knew, that the prince voice right now was hoarser and gloomier than usual.
Wearier.
“In accordance with a long-established tradition of the Empire, I hereby approve the challenge to duel to the death that you have issued against another noble, Danny Doyle, for the sake of avenging your blood relative.”
Doyle lowered his head and exhaled a long breath.
Thales’ expression was grim as he looked at Anker, who had looked forward to this moment.
“And I shall personally witness its outcome.
“To ensure its fairness and legitimacy.
“Is that enough?”
Thales stopped speaking and the hall was enveloped by silence.
Until a few seconds later, Anker responded in an equally fatigued voice, “Thank you, Your Highness. Thank you.”
Under countless gazes, he seemed to break free from his restraint and shoved the old baron aside.
Baron Doyle fell to the ground but did not leave. He remained paralyzed on the spot, sobbing softly and gasping in agony.
The guards took the chance to help him up and lead him away.
Several of them hesitated about whether they should use this opportunity to attack the hostage-taker, but Count Godwin sighed, shook his head and signaled to them that it was unnecessary now.
“Whether you believe it or not, Your Highness,” Anker said with a wry smile, “You and this brat Doyle, you’re the only ones out of the hundreds of people I’ve met these past months that have been willing to respond to my request.”
Without a grandiose act, no one would listen.
Thales recalled his words and could not help but feel dispirited inside.
“Whether I live or die, win or lose, Thales Jadestar, Your Highness, Your Grace.
Anker took a deep breath, knelt down sincerely, put the hilt of his sword to his chest, lowered his head and said, “I will forever remember…
“Your grace.”
Thales slumped into his seat and closed his eyes.
Chapter 554: Sacrificing a Pawn (Three) |
The guests in the hall were unusually silent, as if after the order for the duel had been given, everyone forgot how to breathe.
Until Doyle reached a hand out to grab Thales’ wine glass!
He brazenly and willfully chugged the entire glass of wine under everyone’s surprised gaze.
Doyle tossed the wine glass away and took a deep breath as the glass shattered.
Regaining his composure, he looked at Anker’s attire.
In the next second, Doyle methodically removed his royal guard leather armor and protective gear with a blank expression on his face.
“Proc, my sword.”
Procca hesitated, but eventually handed over the confiscated weapon under Mallos’ gaze.
“This won’t be a straightforward duel—both sides are seeking defeat instead of victory, hoping to die rather than live,”
Mallos walked up to Doyle as the latter was making the final preparations, and said softly, “Are you ready?”
In his seat, Thales clenched his fists.
Both sides were hoping to die…
Why.
Why!
Doyle took off his armguard and glanced at his superior indifferently.
“My lord, Sir, or Tormond Jr,”
Perhaps it was liquid courage, perhaps he was impetuous, he casually hollered, “You know, you’re a real bastard,”
Tormond Jr—Mallos frowned.
“That self-assured attitude of yours, ignoring even His Highness, it’s annoying,” Doyle went on, and suddenly smiled.
But all the other guards did not.
The watchman sighed. “The backhand stab is an essential method of ‘Rose’ sword style. It is known for being simple, aggressive and difficult to block, and is habitual for practitioners.
“If you find the right timing…it will lessen the pain.”
Doyle’s smile froze.
He straightened himself and looked towards his long-time partner Glover with a dreary expression.
“Zombie, sorry I’ve always annoyed you with rubbish talk. But father told me to build good relations with the Glover family…”
Glover nodded, still expressionless. “I know.”
Doyle took another deep breath.
“Also, you never go to Red Street Market…
“So I’ve been meaning to ask,” Doyle disregarded everyone’s gazes and revealed a pale smile, “Are you gay?”
The guards fell silent.
Glover frowned, but still replied, “No.”
Doyle scoffed softly and said with a shrug, “Alright. I just want to say that it’s fine even if you are. I’m very tolerant…”
“Doyle’s son,” from the center of the hall, Anker interrupted Doyle. The former looked content, completely unconcerned about the guards around him that seemed eager to try their luck.
“Why are you dawdling?”
Doyle chuckled and responded, “What?
“You can’t wait to die?”
“Right back at you.” Anker looked at his opponent and started chuckling too. “You’re just the same.”
They stared at each other. Their smiles quickly vanished from their faces.
Calm and indifferent.
Without warning, Doyle grabbed the sword from Procca.
“Your Highness.
“I know I’ve been a little over the top in trying to get on your good side these days, but.” Doyle hugged the scabbard tightly, like a drowning man holding on to a bundle of straw, and, without turning back, let out his usual simple-minded laugh. “You’re a good person.”
Thales was taken aback.
Doyle looked towards the ceiling and grinned. “Compared to Renaissance Palace, it’s much more relaxing here.”
His smile faded.
“In future, if my father… Please remember today.”
Thales opened his mouth subconsciously but did not manage to utter “alright”.
All he could do was stare blankly at Doyle.
“His Highness is benevolent and generous,” Mallos calmly took over the conversation to resolve the awkwardness. “You know he won’t forget.”
Doyle forced a smile and nodded comprehendingly.
Benevolent and generous.
Benevolent and generous…
At that moment, Thales felt that this description was extremely ironic.
In the hall, Baron Doyle held his wife and sobbed unreservedly.
Doyle had a helpless expression on his face.
He was no longer looking at Thales. Instead, he turned around, hoisted his weapon and walked down the steps.
Towards his opponent.
And his end.
“Doyle…” Thales could not help but speak, but Mallos clutched his arm and stopped the prince from going on.
“He knows what he will be sacrificing,” Mallos said calmly, “and what he wants to save,”
The watchman turned towards Thales. “But the question is, do you?”
‘Do I?’
Thales did not speak.
‘What he will be sacrificing…’
Thales watched as Doyle walked slowly down the steps. The latter’s usual carefree attitude had been replaced by uncharacteristic solemnity and consternation.
‘What he wants to save…’
Thales gradually turned his attention towards the pale-faced Baron Doyle who had collapsed into a heap and the baroness who was sobbing and trembling.
‘What I will be sacrificing.
‘What I want to save.’
Thales looked at Anker, who was holding his short sword, looking calm but distracted.
His heart skipped a beat.
‘So, is this how it feels?’
Thales asked himself.
He was the second prince.
The Duke of Star Lake.
That’s why he should sit at a high point and look at the chessboard, look at the chess pieces tearing each other apart, and salvage the entire game.
Planning strategies, moving the chess pieces.
Just like this, he should accept necessary sacrifices, and watch as Doyle get entangled in a duel with the enemy and fight to die under his opponent’s sword, regardless of how ridiculous that is.
Then based on gains and losses, award and punish accordingly.
“Thales, if you want to enter this circle and even climb to the top…”
Quick Rope’s words rang in Thales’ ears.
“The first thing you have to do is to submit to power and let go of your body and mind. You have to let its world and its perception of the world rule every single inch of your being. You have to become someone that even you can’t recognize. Only by doing so will you be able to start playing the game and excel in it.”
Thales silently stared at Doyle’s leaving figure.
“Remember,” vice-captain Vogel strode forward to catch up to Doyle and reminded him in hushed tones, “If you survive and he dies, then His Highness and your parents’ fates will suffer.”
Doyle shuddered.
Just like how Thales’ breathing staggered.
But unlike Thales, Doyle quickly regained his composure and kept on walking.
As if he had already resigned himself to fate.
Just like a…
Chess piece.
In that very instant, Thales suddenly understood.
“Think carefully about what sort of person you’ve become after taking the role of a prince.
“Can you still choose your own path and do what you want to do?”
Thales lowered his head gently.
Everyone was waiting for Doyle’s footsteps to arrive at where Anker was.
“After becoming a prince, are you still yourself? Are you still Thales?
“Or have you… become something else?”
“You’re right, Mallos,” Thales said quietly, “Doyle…He knows what he will be sacrificing.
“And Anker, he knows what he wants to save.”
“What have you gained, and what have you lost?”
Mallos tilted his head, baffled.
“Your Highness?”
Thales looked up; his gaze turned keen.
“But you’re wrong too.”
From his seat, he looked towards the faces in the hall: worried, anxious, terrified, panicked, pleased, anticipating, sad, calm, schadenfreude…
“He’s not a chess piece,” Thales continued calmly, “They’re both not.”
He clenched his fists. “No one is.”
Maybe someone else could.
Without burden and scruples, move the chess pieces with a clear conscience, or willingly be a chess piece.
Maybe the Duke of Star Lake could, maybe the second prince could…
