The Royal Family!

Count Argon’s eyes widened so much they seemed as though they would burst from his face. His shock and disbelief were evident in the extreme gap between his eyes and eyebrows, which had expanded to their limits. For about a minute, Count Argon remained frozen in that posture before he finally signaled that he had calmed down by waving his hand. Only then did he release his tense body.

The lily insignia.

There was only one person in this entire nation who had the right to bestow that symbol.

King Georges Loire II, the king of this country.

"No, you… Who are you, exactly…?"

His words broke off in fragments, unable to form a coherent question. Should he ask how the intruder entered the room? Who he was? Or why he had come here? Count Argon’s mind was flooded with questions, and the intruder, seeing his confusion, sighed and gestured for him to sit down.

“Let’s have a calm conversation. In the meantime, you may want to dismiss any servants or visitors.”

The calmness of the intruder’s voice brought Count Argon back to his senses, and he nodded.

“…Understood.”

The count sat down in his office chair. He couldn’t help but wonder about the absence of his servants, given the commotion that had occurred.

“My people outside are unharmed, I presume?”

“They never entered the building. The disturbance wasn’t as loud as you might think, so it’s only natural they didn’t come in.”

The intruder’s factual explanation left Count Argon feeling slightly embarrassed. He cleared his throat awkwardly and returned to his usual spot in the office.

“I see… I was a bit startled.”

Wait a moment. Wasn’t it strange that he was explaining himself to this intruder so confidently? Just as Count Argon began to feel that something was amiss, the intruder bowed his head.

“I apologize for the sudden and discourteous intrusion.”

An intruder with manners, it seems.

Count Argon felt like making a sarcastic remark but knew he was in no position to joke after the disturbance he had caused. He swallowed his words and focused on the intruder.

“You must have a valid reason for entering so discreetly.”

“Yes. Specifically, because this is something only you, Count, must know.”

“I assume your visit itself is part of that secret?”

“Indeed.”

Count Argon closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them.

“And who exactly are you?”

The intruder raised a hand to the edge of his hood and slowly pulled it back. The sound of fabric brushing against itself revealed a head of raven-black hair, gleaming like crow feathers. Below his sharp black eyes and over his straight nose was a noticeable scar crossing his face. Aside from the scar, the man was strikingly handsome, though the count could not recall anyone who matched this description. No, perhaps there was a faint resemblance to someone he once knew...

While the count searched his hazy memories, the black-haired man spoke.

“I am Arsen Bern, a knight of the 1st Royal Guard. I’ve come to deliver a proposal from His Majesty, the King.”

Count Argon’s eyes widened again.

The 1st Royal Guard!

The finest knights in the kingdom, selected for their extraordinary skill and entrusted with the protection of the king himself. A knight of such caliber carrying the lily insignia explained everything: how he had entered the office undetected and why he bore the royal emblem.

“I see… For someone of your rank to come all the way to Myra, it must surely be due to a confidential order from the king.”

“Indeed. And as such, my presence here must remain a secret as well.”

Count Argon rubbed his temples. The very issue he had been contemplating earlier now resurfaced as the most pressing matter. Everything else was pushed aside. The count cleared his mind, organizing his thoughts on the kingdom’s current situation.

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on the capital’s developments.”

“I’d expect no less, Count. Every noble is doing the same.”

“True, it’s a topic so obvious it’s hard to ignore. It’s not difficult to guess why you’ve come with this proposal.”

Count Argon didn’t want to relinquish control of the conversation, even if his visitor was an envoy from the king. The black-haired knight allowed the conversation to flow in the count’s favor. After all, it wasn’t a knight’s job to dominate negotiations.

“Yes, may I present the proposal now?”

“Speak. I’d rather not be branded a traitor and have my head taken off.”

Whether it was a joke or sincere, the count wore a serious expression. The knight showed no sign of discomfort, remaining calm—difficult to deal with, thought the count.

“I’ll get straight to the point.”

The knight took a breath and met the count’s eyes. His gaze was deep, and Count Argon found himself impressed by the maturity in the young knight’s expression, despite him appearing no older than thirty.

“Join His Majesty.”

“Explain further.”

“Stand with the king, help drive out the traitors who threaten the kingdom and the royal family’s peace, and restore prosperity and stability to the land.”

There was no command, no forceful demand—just a calm request.

“That is His Majesty’s proposal, as well as his plea.”

Count Argon let out a long sigh. He had thought the issues weighing on him had diminished, but it seemed they had only been laying the groundwork for this moment.

“Hah…”

“His Majesty—”

The count stopped him from continuing.

Though Leon Bening was involved, this was still an internal matter of the royal family. Would involving more outsiders only further destabilize the royal house?

“Leon Bening openly supports the second prince, as we know. And the Mage Tower backs him.”

The count’s eyes sharpened. He was testing the knight, filling his words with all the concern and loyalty he held for the crown—and with as much impudence as he could muster.

“The royal family has every reason to get involved. The royal family has not yet officially announced the successor to the throne, and the second prince’s legitimacy cannot be entirely denied. If they intend to contest for power, it could go either way.”

Furthermore—

The count raised a finger.

“And their strength? It’s undeniable. Bening has grown into one of the most powerful military houses in the kingdom, supported by the Mage Tower. Leon Bening is widely considered one of the finest knights in the kingdom, and his daughter, Teodora Bening, is a knight of such renown that her name is known even beyond the kingdom.”

The atmosphere shifted. For a brief moment, Count Argon sensed the faintest hint of killing intent from the knight across from him. Those black eyes flashed with a chilling, deadly glint.

“Hm?”

Before the count could react, the murderous aura disappeared, so fleeting it felt like an illusion. But the unsettling remnant of that killing intent lingered, like a cold breeze through the office. The count knew that it wasn’t directed at him. Who, then? Count Bening? Or perhaps his daughter?

“Please, continue.”

“…The discussion is over. Sir Bern, was it?”

“Arsen is fine. I’ve yet to earn the right to be called a 'sir.'”

“Very well, Arsen.”

The count moved to shift the conversation.

“What, then, is His Majesty’s claim? What strength does he rely on?”

It was impolite, even treacherous, to question the king in this manner. It bordered on sedition, weighing the royal family against a mere noble house. And yet, it was also the height of loyalty. The count asked directly what the royal family lacked in order to fight back against the rebellion.

“There is one correction I must make.”

“Go on.”

“His Majesty does not intend to place you at the forefront of this fight.”

Balance of power.

That’s what the king emphasized.

‘They are framing this as a succession battle,’ the king had explained. ‘This is partly because I have not formally named an heir and partly because of past mistakes that still linger.’

What those mistakes were, Maxim—now known as Arsen Bern—could not guess, nor did the king seem inclined to reveal them.

‘I want Count Argon and the frontier lords to support the first princess and the first prince, respectively.’

‘...Are you certain that will be enough?’

‘I regret that this crisis will present an opportunity for Michelle. In any case, it’s better than allowing anyone to seize complete control of the kingdom’s future.’

The king had not spoken lightly.

‘The moment Bening takes this nation fully in his grasp will be the moment the Loire royal line ends.’

Arsen recalled the king’s grim words.

‘I will treat them as such, and I trust you will do the same.’

Arsen, still in his role as the knight Bern, opened his eyes.

“You’re right, Count. His Majesty believes it would be wiser to quell the unrest in the royal court by formally announcing the successor rather than interfering directly.”

But the king had missed his chance. Bening had already acted swiftly, openly supporting the second prince before the royal family had officially announced the successor.

"Indeed. As you say, His Majesty may have missed the opportune moment. But even now, if the royal family wishes to restore order, it’s not entirely impossible. The first prince is still alive and well, so why…"

The count trailed off. A thought crept into his mind—one he dared not speak aloud, one that felt blasphemous just to consider. Why hadn’t the first prince been declared the successor earlier? Why, even now, was there hesitation?

And, knowing this, why hadn’t House Bening made more aggressive moves?

“Is there something wrong with the first prince?”

“I’m not privy to that information myself,” Arsen replied, half-confirming the count’s suspicions.

“His Majesty believes that the second prince’s supporters have a solid justification for their actions, and that’s why they aren’t moving hastily.”

“Horrible…”

Count Argon sighed in frustration. If there was indeed something wrong with the first prince, it explained why Bening was in no rush. Whatever the issue—whether it was the prince’s character or legitimacy—there was surely a reason why the royal family had not yet named him as heir.

A bastard son. Two children born on the same day. One, the legitimate son of the queen, and the other, a child of a concubine. Count Argon’s mind swirled with the implications.

“The more I hear, the more it sounds like I shouldn’t get involved.”

“You would’ve been involved either way, wouldn’t you?”

The knight’s words were true. As shameful as it was to admit, as the lord of Myra, Count Argon was a powerful noble, and any major royal affair would inevitably entangle him.

“…What exactly does His Majesty want from me?”

Count Argon finally asked about the king’s intentions.

“The first princess and the first prince.”

The names that came from Arsen’s lips made Count Argon grimace.

“You want me to support one of them?”

“His Majesty hopes that, until the royal family is stabilized, you will help maintain the balance of power.”

So it’s come to this—dragging the situation into a succession conflict.

It seemed the king intended to involve all the major noble houses in this crisis in order to bring about a resolution. Though reluctant, Count Argon knew that hesitation would only result in being crushed by either Bening or the royal family.

The count lightly rested a fist on the table.

“How long do you plan on staying in Myra?”

“As long as the merchant convoy remains.”

Count Argon sighed.

“Finding you again won’t be easy, I imagine.”

“If you set a time and date, I will find a way to visit you once more.”

The knight’s confidence in his ability to slip in and out undetected made the count chuckle.

“The night before the merchants depart, come to this mansion again. I’ll give you my answer then.”

“Please, consider it carefully.”

“Of course.”

By the time the count blinked, the black-haired knight had vanished.

"As ghostly in his disappearance as in his arrival," the count muttered, shaking his head.

A knock came at the door of the office.

“Come in.”

The door opened, and the female knight who had escorted Marion and Catherine entered with a questioning look on her face.

“Did you enjoy your tour of the estate?”

“Yes, both are safely back at the mansion.”

“Good. You may leave now.”

Despite receiving the dismissal, the knight hesitated briefly.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing. The air in this room just feels a bit… cold.”

“I had the window open. I felt a bit stifled.”

Is that so? The knight muttered to herself as she backed out of the room, though the perplexed look on her face didn’t disappear.

‘It wasn’t just cold… it felt… unsettling.’

With a shake of her head, she dismissed her concerns, closing the door behind her as she left the office.