Several days had passed since Vincent arrived at the royal capital. During this time, he had received numerous invitations from nobles, each seeking to host him for dinner. He accepted them all, not out of courtesy but to observe. It did not take long for him to notice a common theme among them they were all scrutinizing him. Every meeting was not just about pleasantries or fine dining; it was an assessment. Each faction sought to measure him, to understand his stance, and perhaps even to recruit him.
Vincent understood their intent. His territory, Ravennest, was located on the edge of the kingdom, far from the intricate power struggles of the central nobility. The state of the nobles within the capital and how they ruled their lands were never fully updated in the frontier. Now that he was here, he could see the reality for himself.
The nobles he met were already the heads of their respective families. Some had been his classmates at the royal academy, while others were his seniors. Yet the innocence he once saw in them during their academy days was gone. Time had changed them. Some indulged in arrogance, boasting about their wealth and achievements, looking down on those they deemed inferior. Others were deeply involved in political maneuvering, each action taken with the sole purpose of gaining an advantage over another.
Vincent listened, observed, but never fully engaged. He was aware that these gatherings were nothing more than games of power and influence, and he refused to be a pawn. His silence, his composed demeanor, did not go unnoticed, and many left their encounters with him with unanswered questions about where he truly stood.
Now, as he stepped into his carriage, he prepared himself for the last and most significant event of his visit the banquet hosted by the king himself. This was the true test, the main event, where the eyes of the kingdom would be upon him. The carriage doors closed, and with a steady breath, Vincent leaned back, ready to face whatever awaited him.
Vincent stepped down from his carriage and was immediately greeted by the sight of heavily armed guards stationed at the entrance of the grand hall. Their armor gleamed under the magical lighting that illuminated the path, and their gazes were sharp, scrutinizing every noble who passed through. It was clear that security for this event was unlike any other.
As he approached the checkpoint, he noticed how some of the more powerful nobles grumbled under their breath about the inspection. However, none dared to openly complain. The presence of the royal guards made it evident—this was for the safety of the king himself, and anyone who resisted would only be inviting trouble. Vincent remained composed, allowing the guards to do their job as they checked his invitation and briefly inspected him. Once cleared, he stepped through the gates and into the grand ballroom.
The sight that greeted him was one of sheer extravagance. Chandeliers made of rare crystals hung from the ceiling, their glow refracting into a spectrum of colors that danced across the walls. Golden embroidery lined the edges of the massive red carpets, and the air was filled with the scent of exotic perfumes and fine wine. Every detail of the venue screamed wealth and luxury, as if the decorators wanted to display the kingdom's immense power through its riches alone.
However, as Vincent took in the atmosphere, he couldn't help but feel the contrast between the lavish setting and the people within. The nobles were divided into their own groups, each engaged in their own interests. Some were discussing business, exchanging exaggerated praises while secretly negotiating underhanded deals. Others whispered gossip, their words laced with mockery and disdain as they spoke about their supposed allies. Even among the wealthiest and most influential figures, deception and arrogance reigned supreme.
Vincent sighed internally. This doesn't match at all. They pour wealth into decoration, but the air is thick with greed and manipulation. How exhausting.
His instincts told him to leave, to avoid wasting any more time in a place that reeked of hypocrisy. However, he knew that wasn't an option not until the king arrived. Until then, he had to endure this gathering of nobles, observe, and gather whatever information he could.
With that thought, Vincent calmly stepped further into the hall, his mind already preparing for what was to come.
Vincent sat in the corner of the grand hall, quietly observing the nobles around him. Unlike at previous gatherings, no one approached him. There was a simple reason for this they had nothing to gain from him. His territory lay at the edge of the kingdom, far from the power struggles that consumed the central nobility. Without any declared alliances or political aspirations, he was insignificant in their eyes.
Minutes passed, and he remained unnoticed, his presence disregarded by the noble factions as they whispered amongst themselves, forming temporary alliances, boasting of their wealth, or subtly undermining their rivals. Vincent could only sigh internally. The extravagance of the hall contrasted sharply with the atmosphere inside it was meant to be a place of elegance, yet all he saw were opportunists scheming against each other.
Then, the announcer's voice echoed throughout the hall, silencing all conversation.
"His Majesty, King Solon, has arrived!"
The room instantly shifted. Nobles straightened their postures, conversations ceased, and all eyes turned toward the entrance. The heavy doors of the hall swung open, revealing the figure that commanded the kingdom.
King Solon entered, flanked by the queen and the royal family. His presence alone was enough to command the attention of all those gathered. A man of regal bearing, he walked with the quiet confidence befitting a ruler whose authority was unquestioned.
Vincent observed silently, noting the deep-rooted tradition that surrounded the throne. In this kingdom, the reigning monarch always took the name Solon. When a prince inherited the throne, he assumed this name, erasing the identity he once had. The former king, in turn, would revert to his original birth name. This practice had been followed for generations, signifying the absolute separation between the individual and the crown.
As King Solon took his place at the grand stage, the queen sat beside him, and their children settled into their seats. Among them, only one was a prince the future heir to the throne. The rest were princesses, each groomed for political marriages to secure alliances.
Vincent's gaze lingered on the royal family for a moment before he let out a quiet exhale.
The grand hall fell into silence as King Solon rose from his seat. All eyes turned toward him, waiting for his words. The weight of his presence alone was enough to demand the attention of the gathered nobles. With a composed expression, he began his speech.
"First and foremost, I extend my gratitude to all of you for accepting my sudden invitation," King Solon spoke, his voice steady and firm. "Your presence here is appreciated. I understand that many of you have traveled great distances, and for that, I am thankful."
A few murmurs rippled through the crowd as the king continued.
"However, this gathering is not merely for celebration. I have called you all here because there are several announcements that must be made announcements that will shape the future of our kingdom."
A solemn hush fell over the nobles as they braced themselves for what was to come.
"First," King Solon declared, "I wish to formally announce the crowning of my son, Prince Gabriel, as the Crown Prince of our kingdom. As he has now reached the age of five, it is time for him to take on this responsibility, in accordance with our traditions."
Polite applause echoed throughout the hall, though Vincent noted the mixed expressions on many faces. Some seemed satisfied, while others clearly harbored their own thoughts about the decision.
"Next," the king continued, his tone shifting to one of warning, "we must address the looming threats beyond our borders. Reports indicate increased activity from our neighboring kingdoms. Though they have yet to make their move, it would be foolish to remain unprepared. I urge all of you to strengthen your territories and ensure that your forces are ready. When the rally is called, I expect you to answer."
Tension gripped the room as the implications of war settled in. Some nobles exchanged glances, while others maintained a composed façade.
"Now, for the most pressing matter," King Solon's gaze darkened as he swept his eyes across the hall. "There have been countless reports regarding noble interference in the Royal Academy. The education of our kingdom's future generations should be of the utmost importance. Yet, many of you have treated the institution as a mere extension of your influence, manipulating its operations for your own gain."
A chilling silence filled the hall.
"Because of this," the king continued, "I have decided to temporarily halt the academy's functions and commence a thorough clearing operation. Any and all noble interference will be eradicated. The Royal Academy will return to its true purpose: fostering the future leaders of this kingdom, not serving as a battlefield for your personal disputes."
His words sent a ripple of unease through the gathered nobles, though none dared to voice their objections outright. Unlike other kingdoms, King Solon's rule was absolute. Those who openly opposed him often found themselves stripped of power or worse.
With that, the king concluded, "Now, with these matters addressed, you may begin your meals."
He then rose from his seat and, without another word, departed the hall alongside the queen and the royal family.
The moment the doors shut behind them, the murmurs began. Some whispered in frustration, while others remained in stunned silence. Yet, no one dared to protest aloud. The king had spoken, and his decision was final.
Vincent leaned back in his seat, watching the reactions of the nobles around him. It was evident that the political landscape of the kingdom was shifting. Whether this change would be for better or worse, only time would tell.
The night after the grand banquet had been a quiet one for Vincent. He had no interest in the whispered conversations among the nobles scrambling to react to the king's declarations. He had come, observed, and learned what he needed to. Now, it was time to return to Ravennest.
As the first light of dawn illuminated the capital, Vincent stood by his carriage, watching his men make the final preparations for departure. Albert, ever reliable, ensured that their supplies were well-stocked and that security had been doubled for the journey home. The capital was not a dangerous place for someone like Vincent, but he had no intention of letting his guard down in unfamiliar territory.
The streets were quieter in the morning, with only a few merchants and workers beginning their day. Unlike the grandiose atmosphere of the noble gatherings, the capital's common people moved with purpose, focused on their daily survival. It was a stark contrast to the extravagant wastefulness he had witnessed the past few days.
As he climbed into the carriage, Vincent allowed himself a moment to reflect. The banquet had been an eye-opener. The kingdom was preparing for war, the academy would undergo a drastic purge, and the crown prince had been formally introduced to the world. The power struggles among the nobles would no doubt intensify in the coming months. It was a storm he had no interest in being caught up in. His focus remained on Ravennest and its future.
Albert sat across from him, his expression unreadable. "What do you think, my lord? Was this trip worth it?"
Vincent exhaled, leaning back in his seat as the carriage began to move. "It was informative, at the very least. The capital has changed, but so am I."
Albert nodded, understanding his meaning without further explanation. The noble society Vincent had once been a part of now seemed distant, its corruption and pettiness laid bare. He was no longer the same young noble who had once studied among them.
The road stretched ahead, leading him away from the suffocating politics of the capital and back toward the territory he now called his own. Ravennest awaited, and with it, the responsibilities that truly mattered.
As the carriage wheels turned, Vincent closed his eyes for a brief moment, already anticipating what awaited him at home.