Maxim grimaced upon hearing Louis's request, his expression twisted as though he'd bitten into something bitter. Louis observed his reaction with a melancholy look.

"Your Highness, how can you, who stand here unharmed, instruct me to serve someone else should anything befall you?"

Louis noted the stiffness in Maxim’s tone, swallowing apologetically.

"It’s only natural for you to resent my words. I know I’m asking something no liege should ask of his knight. But I still want your promise in this matter."

Maxim exhaled shortly, a sigh containing both his dissatisfaction with the prince's request and his frustration with himself.

"Your Highness, it sounds as though you expect me to fail in protecting you."

Louis shook his head calmly, his tone carrying no sense of self-justification.

"Your duty is, after all, to remain as a mentor to the Second Guard, not to shield me."

Maxim frowned, irritated as though dealing with a stubborn child, suppressing his frustration as he replied.

"That’s just semantics, Your Highness. How can my duty as your knight not involve protecting you?"

Louis simply shrugged, a small smile gracing his lips. Regardless of the conversation, he seemed heartened by Maxim’s loyalty and friendship.

"Then, let me ask this not as your liege, but as a friend."

Maxim’s eyes widened slightly at Louis’s direct mention of friendship.

"Look after my sister."

His blue eyes held a gravity that left Maxim unable to argue. He’d seen that look too many times before in others—sincere, but bearing a burden. Louis spoke not as one issuing orders but as someone entrusting a dear friend with a heartfelt request.

"You’re the one I trust enough to entrust with this. And I’d like to hear your promise in return."

Maxim met the prince’s gaze, then sighed heavily.

"Your Highness, even if you hadn’t asked, I would protect the First Princess as well."

"I know. But think of this as a separate matter. It’s something I need for my own peace of mind."

Louis’s eyes shimmered with a quiet desperation. Though Maxim couldn’t fully understand his reasoning, Louis seemed to catch his uncertainty and sighed deeply.

"Maxim, I once told you that my sword represents my aspiration."

"...Yes, Your Highness."

Maxim held onto the sincerity in Louis’s eyes, listening intently.

"I envied you. The way you strove to walk beside someone, putting forth every effort to reach them—I envied that. When you finally laid the foundation to walk that path side by side, I envied that too."

Louis’s expression was bittersweet, yet there was a sense of relief in his voice as though sharing a long-kept secret.

"I, too, once had someone I wanted to walk beside… or rather, someone I wanted to. But that person is someone I can never walk alongside. Even wanting that was forbidden, and following in their footsteps was something I could never do."

Maxim found himself speechless, listening in silence. Seeing Maxim’s stunned expression, Louis offered a wry smile, as if he’d anticipated it. A meeting of parallel lines that should never converge—a thorny rose hidden in brambles.

"I’ve never considered it misfortune, even now."

But Louis sighed, as though releasing a weight from his heart.

"Things are moving so quickly now that I don’t want to leave any regrets. If you can ensure her safety, I’ll have no regrets."

Maxim pressed his lips together tightly, and Louis, his expression shifting from pleading to empty, looked at him.

"If you understand what I’m asking, would you just say you’ll do it?"

Maxim almost regretted probing further. He could sympathize but not fully share Louis’s sentiment.

"I must look rather foolish," Louis said, sighing again, weighed down by a feeling that bordered on certainty of impending misfortune. Maxim couldn’t agree with that foreboding, but he nodded, unable to refuse.

"...I promise, Your Highness. I will protect the First Princess as you asked. But, Your Highness, I also need a promise from you."

Louis inclined his head, indicating he should continue.

"You mustn’t give up. Promise me you’ll keep fighting alongside us. If you do, then I’ll honor your request as a friend, not just as your knight. The Marquess will soon be in the capital to support you, and I will always be ready to stand as your sword."

Louis nodded with a bitter smile.

"Very well. I’ll grant you that promise, as your friend and student rather than your liege."

Maxim couldn’t fully grasp what Louis sensed, but he hoped the prince wouldn’t abandon his path, no matter how unclear it seemed.

Leon Bening’s residence.

The count sat at the head of the room, with ministers arrayed on either side of him, as if continuing a court session. But unlike the tense atmosphere of the court, Leon’s oppressive presence filled the space, silencing the ministers. After a long pause, one of them glanced around before cautiously speaking up.

"We’ve been applying pressure at the court as you suggested… but is it truly wise?"

Leon turned his gaze to the man, who swallowed nervously. With a dry voice, Leon countered the question.

"Let me ask instead: why wouldn’t it be wise?"

The minister, taken aback, glanced around nervously before replying.

"That’s… the king’s power has not fully revealed itself. If he’s accepting pressure now without directly opposing us, there’s no telling when the tide could turn…."

"Why not say it plainly? You’re afraid of the backlash," came a derisive remark from Emile Borden, seated close to Leon. The minister’s face twisted in anger as he snapped back.

"Watch your tongue! My concern is for our grand plan, not my own safety!"

Despite his words, a flush crept up his cheeks, betraying his agreement with Emile’s taunt. Leon raised a hand, quieting the quarrel as he returned his attention to the minister.

"So you fear the king’s influence, is that it?"

The minister’s face turned ashen at Leon’s words. Shaking his head frantically, he replied.

"N-No! You misunderstand me, Count. I only mean that continuing this pressure alone may provoke the king’s retaliation, especially with the Marquess currently in the capital and the Earl advancing west."

"Then simply ensure he has no chance to retaliate."

Leon’s gaze sharpened. His smile was no smirk of satisfaction, but a hollow one intended only to show his disdain. The minister shivered.

"By that, you mean…?"

"At the next court session, we will propose officially designating the Second Prince as the Crown Prince."

The tension in the room spiked, and the ministers exchanged tense glances, all eyes fixed on Leon.

"This will be the king’s last chance to settle matters peacefully. But if he insists on seeing blood, we’ll show him blood."

Leon added that he didn’t expect a peaceful resolution. His indifferent gaze swept over the ministers, who would move at his will without enchantment or compulsion. A few deaths among them would hardly matter.

As the ministers took their leave, another figure emerged from the shadows in Leon’s quarters.

"So, you’re finally resorting to the last method you’d held in reserve since the tournament ended. Did you really think everything would go according to plan, Count?" The mocking voice echoed—it was the witch, as derisive as always.

Leon, unaffected by her tone, replied coolly.

"Unlike you, I don’t abandon my plans when they stray from the expected path."

Lilia’s lips curled, satisfied with his answer. Leon continued, his tone flat.

"The Second Prince—is he prepared?"

"The tasks you set are complete. He’s ready to make his move."

I see.

Leon’s gaze darkened, and, as if sensing his thoughts, Bernardo approached him. Leon issued a grave command.

"Order the Raven Knights under the Second Prince’s command to stand at the ready."

"Yes, understood."

Teodora. Leon thought of his daughter. When had she begun defying him? He recalled the obsidian blade that had flown through the air during the tournament. Had she overcome the fear he’d instilled in her as a child, or was this mere whimsy? He was certain she’d defy him again.

"If Teodora fails to follow this command… or pretends to comply but leaks this information…."

His tone was chilling, devoid of any paternal warmth.

"Restrain her and bring her to me."

Bernardo kneeled and bowed his head without hesitation.

"By your command, Count."

The past few days of court sessions were chaotic, with Leon’s supporters bombarding the king with scattered demands while the king redirected discussions or introduced new topics to divert the flow.

“You seem unusually quiet today,” the king observed, looking at the assembled ministers. The silence spoke volumes. His gaze traveled to Leon Bening, standing closest to him, who then stepped forward.

“Your Majesty, I have a petition.”

Not a petition—an ultimatum, the king thought but restrained himself as Leon continued.

“I grant you permission to speak.”

“Alongside the rumors spread in the capital, discord has overtaken the royal family.”

Leon's solemn voice filled the chamber. Commander Hugo Bern gripped his sword, his gaze menacing, but the king raised a hand to stop him. With a quick glance at Hugo, Leon continued.

“With all due respect, I believe this unrest stems from a lack of clarity in the royal family’s foundation.”

The king anticipated what would come next. Leon took a breath, then, in a booming voice, made the long-awaited proclamation.

“I therefore humbly request that Your Majesty restore stability to the royal family by officially designating the Second Prince, born of the lawful queen, as Crown Prince—and strip the First Prince of his title, removing any stain of scandal from our noble house.”