Two men strolled down the stone corridor of the royal palace in the Kingdom of Natra. They carried themselves with a certain dignity and pride—even their gait was refined. This was expected of these two longtime vassals of the kingdom.
One was a civil official. The other, a military officer. Though in separate spheres of influence, they were appointed around the same time and remained on friendly terms. In fact, they’d occasionally meet up at the palace to share a spirited discussion or two.
On this day, however, the hallway wasn’t filled with their usual merry chatter, clouded instead by matching solemn looks.
There was only one reason for their gloom.
“His Royal Majesty’s condition…doesn’t look too promising,” the civil official croaked in a voice thick with emotion.
Shutting his eyes tightly, the military officer sighed. “Well, with the weather wreaking havoc across the continent—it must be particularly rough on His Royal Majesty, given his physical condition…”
“Oh, the whims of the heavens! I’ve heard other countries are in shambles from losing key decision makers.”
“You know, they say the Emperor himself has fallen ill. Thanks to that, the other royal courts have become dens of wily little devils.”
The civil official sharply exhaled through his nose. “Sure, he might’ve managed to unite the Empire with his charisma, but they say the brighter the light, the darker the shadow becomes when it vanishes… I guess this is all the more true since they’ve yet to name a successor.”
“Well, our own kingdom isn’t much different. But unlike them, we have hope in…” He trailed off as a figure appeared on the far side of the corridor.
No sooner had they confirmed his identity than they immediately stepped aside to salute. This was a rare sight indeed. Not many people in the palace warranted such a display.
“Prince Wein. Good morning, Your Highness,” they greeted in unison.
Standing before them was a young boy attended by a servant.
He was the crown prince of the Kingdom of Natra, Wein Salema Arbalest.
“Oh, morning,” he replied.
He was only sixteen years old—a boy by most standards—but he’d just been appointed as the prince regent, tasked with running government affairs in place of the ailing king.
“What’s with those cheerless expressions? …Is it about my father?”
The two reverently responded to Wein’s inquiry.
“Yes, Your Highness,” confirmed one.
“Our deepest apologies. When we received word about His Royal Majesty’s condition…,” started another.
“I see,” Wein murmured quietly, placing his hands on their shoulders. “There’s no need to worry any further. I am here.”
They trembled lightly under his hands.
“Besides, it isn’t just me. We have so many vassals supporting Father all these years. If we join hands, I’m certain we can overcome any national crisis.”
“Your Highness…”
“That’s for certain.”
He serenely smiled over the pair fervently nodding. “There is no time to grieve. We cannot distract him from his recovery. I’ll be expecting the two of you to step up and rise to the occasion.”
““Y-yes, Your Highness!”” they crooned.
As he bid them farewell and continued down the corridor with his servant, the two gazed after him until he was out of sight, then they sighed and melted into a puddle of complete admiration.
“…Oh, I just knew it. Our shining beacon of hope.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I’ve heard he was gifted from an early age, but he’s shown so much growth since returning from his studies in the Empire. He’s already managed to stop chaos from erupting in the Imperial Court and is now working toward unifying the kingdom’s vassals.”
“Heh, I bet the Empire will have a jealous fit when they hear this.”
“Let us throw more salt in the wound by further supporting His Highness’s endeavors.”
“Yes, of course.”
The two nodded to each other—gone were their previously dark expressions. In their hearts, they were already imagining a bright future for their kingdom in the prince’s hands.