Randal’s loud voice snapped Alexis out of his thoughts. He shook his head, warding the daydream away.
“Somebody’s coming.” Randal drew his sword and stood before Alexis. He was facing not the pathway from which he and Alexis had come, but a regular door meant for access to this room.
They listened closely as someone’s footsteps approached.
Whoever they were, they were bold enough to come here in the middle of the night when this castle’s true master was absent. Alexis was in no position to point fingers, but they ought to be able to deal with the lone visitor.
He looked at Randal, signaling, Prepare to attack.
Then the door opened—
“Wait, Randal.”
The moment he saw who it was, Alexis commanded his knight to stand down.
“Well…I didn’t think anybody else would be here.”
The visitor pushed back the hood that had been obscuring his identity. His brown skin and blond hair now revealed, Randal sheathed his sword and bowed his head.
“Prince Yarsh…” Alexis voiced the visitor’s name aloud. He was the third prince of Valjean, a mercantile nation in the southwest. He was also a guest at the castle, having arrived just after Alexis.
“Randal—the door.”
Randal closed the door as commanded. Yarsh, lantern in hand, watched it shut before turning his gaze back to Alexis.
“I suppose you and I are both intruders here? Though I used this little thing to enter.”
He boastfully held up a rust-colored key.
“…Where did you get that?”
“I borrowed it from a servant when he wasn’t looking.”
“…”
Alexis raised an eyebrow. Then Yarsh asked a question of his own.
“And how did you get into this room? There’s only one key and I have it.”
“…It is not my duty to answer you.”
“Fair enough,” Yarsh said with a smirk in a sudden playful change of expression. “Doesn’t change the fact that we’re both intruders, eh?” He seemed to have given up on acting prince-like. Raising a hand, he said, “Let’s cut the formalities, okay?”
Yarsh approached the sword in the platform, took his chin in his hand, and scrutinized it with deep curiosity. “So, Alexis, do you know what this room is?”
“I do not.”
“Then I’ll tell you. Turchen is where most of the combatant tribes of Adjutants live. When an Adjutant took a Sovereign in this castle, there was a particular room where they performed the ritual. According to literature, it takes place in a room with a lone sword stabbed into the ground.”
“A lone sword? But I see a mirror, too.”
“You’re fourteen, right? For someone only five years my junior, you sure have no romance in your soul, Alexis.”
Yarsh folded his arms and shook his head at the deplorable notion.
“…” Alexis watched Yarsh with a chilly gaze. He knew of one other person who believed in such things: King Eus, before he killed his sister, the queen. “Aren’t your actions a bit reckless for a prince visiting from another kingdom?” Alexis asked.
“I’m only a prince on paper—I’m staying out of the struggle for succession in my nation. I’m not carrying the responsibility of Valjean on my shoulders, not even if it causes diplomatic issues… Guess it’ll give my whole family quite a shock, though.”
Valjean was a monarchy where the ruler was allowed more than one wife. As such, he or she could have many children, and those children would compete against each other to decide who would be the next monarch. Neither gender nor age were prioritized—the monarch was determined on merit alone. It was a system that only a mercantile nation like Valjean could have established. Since brutal killings had taken place between royals in the past, there was now an unwritten rule that these fights could not result in bloodshed…though whether this rule was actually followed was highly suspect.
Yarsh, the third-eldest prince, had publicly distanced himself from this power struggle. He was an eccentric fellow who loved history and travel. He was such a free spirit that he wandered Turchen castle unguarded (though this couldn’t be the case outside it). He spoke Esfian fluently and roamed where he wished, but if one read between the lines, the only reason he could to do this…was because he was a strong enough fighter to handle danger by himself.
Well-versed in the history of other nations, he had researched the legends of Turchen’s Adjutants. He valued curiosity above common sense. The likeness was undeniable to Alexis… He was a bit like the King Eus of his dreams; the Eus before his sudden change. For this reason, Yarsh made Alexis uncomfortable.
“Besides, I think you’ll be in just as much trouble as me if we’re caught breaking and entering, especially since you didn’t come here by the proper means. So…how are you going to explain that?” Yarsh asked, glancing at the rust-colored key as he spoke.
“I am the Prince of Esfia. Though we both may have broken in, do you think that I—a royal of the nation—and you—a royal of an outside nation—will receive equal treatment? No. If we’re discovered, our punishments will not be the same.”
In Esfia, citizens and outsiders were judged differently in court. As such, Yarsh’s sentence would naturally be more severe, even though he was a prince. He did not enjoy the same rights.
“Yeah, but the way I see it, you don’t want to be caught, right? So wouldn’t it be best if we both turned a blind eye? I’ve satisfied my curiosity, so I’ll gladly leave, taking this secret with me. I won’t pry, either. In exchange, you’ll forget you met me here. Not a bad deal, I’d say.”
“Considering the gap in status between us, I’ve received the much shorter end of the stick.”