Eventually, I reached my father's office. The room was as elegant as one would expect for the king's personal quarters—refined, luxurious, and meticulously organized.
Aside from Annaliese, who had accompanied me all the way from the great hall, several maids stood ready to serve the king at a moment's notice.
Without wasting time, I stepped toward his desk. As expected, even though the court session had ended less than fifteen minutes ago, he was already buried in paperwork.
Being king clearly wasn't easy—not a role I would ever want.
"Father, I'm here as requested," I said politely. He was my father, yes, but also the king. Proper conduct was still required.
He responded with a simple hand gesture, signaling me to sit. His eyes remained fixed on the documents before him throughout the exchange.
Soon, one of the maids approached with tea for both of us. My father always appreciated a good cup of tea—in fact, preparing it well was practically a requirement for any servant hoping to work directly under him.
I didn't recognize the maid. She was pretty, but her movements were a bit clumsy. Was she nervous because she stood so close to both a king and a prince? Or was it the pressure radiating from Annaliese, who stood quietly behind my father?
Noticing my curiosity, my father finally spoke.
"Wondering about the new servant? Her name is Helene. She's been working in the castle for a while, but Annaliese recommended her. Said she showed promise, so I promoted her."
The girl—Helene—immediately bowed in my direction. As expected, she remained silent and returned to the other maids without a word.
"Well, it seems you're always surrounded by young women. Lucky you," I remarked, glancing around. Most of the maids were around my age. The only exception was Annaliese, though her beauty easily beat them all.
I could only imagine what nights in this room must be like.
"It's not something you should say when you have Gerlinde," the king replied, a teasing tone in his voice. "She's not just beautiful—she's talented. Especially with tea. Hers might be the best I've ever had. Honestly, she's wasted on someone like you."
"That's true," I admitted. "I'm lucky to have her. My life would probably be a complete mess without her."
"Yet I notice she's not with you," he added, narrowing his eyes.
Shit.
"Haha, she's handling an important task I gave her," I said nervously. "But I'll make sure she's present next time—so you can enjoy her tea."
"Mh… I see. Then I'll look forward to it." He took a sip of his tea before continuing. "It was quite the surprise seeing you at the royal court session today. I'll admit, at first I thought I was hallucinating—must be my age catching up to me," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
This old man…
"I just figured it was time I started acting like a proper prince," I replied, keeping my expression neutral.
Was he trying to provoke me, or just teasing me as usual?
"I see. Interesting how you only seem to show up when the Kingdom faces some sort of crisis. The last time you attended a proper court session was six years ago—when we declared war on the Hochfeld Kingdom. Were you perhaps expecting something like that today as well?" His gaze locked onto mine.
"Of course not, Father. Just a coincidence," I said, trying to sound casual. "I'm a busy man, as you know. You're the one who keeps piling work on me. But today, I happened to have some free time."
"I see. For a moment, I thought you were the type who enjoys being around when chaos erupts. But it seems I was mistaken. My apologies, Charles," he said, his sarcasm as sharp as ever.
"It's fine, Father. Though I must admit it hurts a little to know that you think your son is that kind of person," I replied with a faint smile. "But I suppose I can't blame you—many people seem to misunderstand me."
Talking to my father was always like this—mocking comments and sarcasm. But I didn't mind. In fact, I found our conversations rather entertaining. However, I knew where the line was—when he truly lost his temper, things stopped being funny.
"Still, I have to admit, I was surprised," I continued. "I thought for sure you were going to declare war on the Republic. Some of the nobles might be afraid of the Hochfeld Kingdom, but you? I doubt that's the case."
"Of course not," he replied immediately. "Our Kingdom is not what it was six years ago. If we went to war with Hochfeld again, I'm certain we would win."
I was genuinely surprised. As expected, my father hadn't changed one bit. He still firmly believed in our Kingdom's strength. To be fair, he wasn't wrong. On the battlefield, we had been superior six years ago—and now, our army was even larger and better trained.
But war isn't decided by brute strength alone. There are always other factors to consider.
"Then why?" I asked, my voice full of curiosity. "If you're certain of our victory, why take such a cautious stance? Don't get me wrong—I think your decision was wise. But it's… not like you."
"This is the first time I've seen you this interested in anything, Charles. You really are full of surprises today." He gave me a smirk. "As for your question... the reason I chose a more careful approach is because… of a dream."
What?
A dream?
Was he mocking me again?
"A dream? Are you saying you suddenly received a prophecy or something?" I said, half-joking.
"Indeed. That's exactly what happened," he replied—this time with a serious expression.
I took a slow sip of my tea to hide my irritation. Normally, I wouldn't mind playing along with one of his ridiculous jokes, but I had genuinely wanted to understand the reasoning behind his choice.
This wasn't funny.
"So all this time you've had the power to receive prophecies, and you're only now deciding to use it? I'm pretty sure it would've been helpful… like six years ago, for example," I muttered, clearly annoyed.
To be fair, in this world of ours, strange things like prophetic dreams did happen from time to time.
Those blessed with wind magic were said to be chosen by the Goddess of Wind—who was also the goddess of time. In rare cases, their blessing included abilities that touched on foresight or glimpses of the future.
My father was indeed a wind magic user… but blessings like that were received at birth. You didn't just wake up with them one day.
Wait… why was I even taking this seriously?
"You're right, Charles," he said with a grin as he finished the last of his tea. "But since I only received this divine gift last night, there's not much I can do about the past. Still, if the Goddess of Wind herself saw fit to bless me, don't you think I should show some gratitude?"
Huh? What was he going on about now?
I didn't understand the point of all this nonsense. If he didn't want to tell me the real reason for his decision, then fine. Whatever.
"As you know, it's that time again," he continued, this time with a more serious tone. "As tradition demands, a member of the royal family will make the journey to Benev to pay respects at the Temple of Spirit Princess Sara."
Ah…
So this was where he'd been going with all the talk about dreams and divine guidance.
"You and Therese are the candidates," he went on. "I already spoke with her—she said she's fine with going. But since you're the older sibling, I figured you might not want to leave such a burden to your little sister." He chuckled.
The sacred trip to Benev… A pilgrimage taken by nobles and commoners alike across the continent.
Benev, a city in the Vinterfell Kingdom, was said to be the birthplace of the famous Spirit Princess Sara, widely recognized as the disciple of the Wind Goddess. Alongside the other three Spirit Princes, Princess Sara had led the fight against the demons in both Venthar and Solkar. She was loved by many and revered as a saint across most nations on the continent—respected even in the northern continent.
Since our kingdom was deeply religious, the royal family made this pilgrimage every five years to show their devotion to both the Spirit Princess Sara and the Goddess of Wind.
Of course, it was mostly a performance to keep the people happy. The citizens of Eberhart were, for the most part, devout people. By showing them that the royal family also upheld religious traditions, it made us seem more relatable. More human.
Max and Lud had already completed the pilgrimage once, which meant that now it was either my turn… or Therese's.
Technically, since I was the eldest, it should have been me.
But…
I didn't want to go.
I had to be honest with myself—I didn't care much about this sort of religious business. The trip was two weeks long, filled with endless prayer, temple visits, ceremonial offerings… and more prayer.
Sure, I was grateful to the Goddess of Wind and her disciple. I respected them. But not enough to throw away two weeks of my life.
"It would be an honor for me to go," I said, trying to sound sincere. "However, I know my sister was very excited about this. She's nearing marriage age, after all, so who knows if five years from now—maybe even with a child—she'll have the chance to go."
"Mhm. How considerate of you," my father replied, smirking. "Unfortunately for you, she already told me she's perfectly fine with you going, Charles."
You really love saying unnecessary things, don't you, dear sister?
For now, my father still wore a playful expression, so this was all still lighthearted banter. But if he were to order me to go, then that would be the end of it. He was the king—and I was his son. In that case, I'd have no choice but to accept.
There was probably no way out of it.
At the very least, I'll make sure to drag Gerlinde with me so she can share my suffering.
Noticing the frustration on my face, my father added, "There's no need to decide right now. I'll give you a day to give me your answer."
Surprisingly, he wasn't being pushy. Normally, when he wanted something done, he would command it with the tone of a king. This time, though, it seemed he didn't particularly care who went to Benev. Which made me wonder… Why did he even call me here?
Either way, if I really had a choice, the answer was obvious: I wasn't going.
But first, I'd have to talk to Therese.
"...Understood. After I speak with my sister, I'll give you an answer," I replied.
"Good. People already don't think too highly of you. If you let your younger sister take your place, their opinion will only worsen. I hope you make the right decision." As he said that, he glanced at the clock. "It's getting late, and I still have work to do. That was everything I wanted to tell you. You may go now."
I had thought Annaliese called me in for something urgent. But in the end, it hadn't been that important after all.
"Understood. I'll give you my answer regarding the Benev trip by tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me." I stood and prepared to leave.
But just as I reached the door, my father spoke again.
"One more thing, Charles. I don't know why you're so obsessed with going against the Hochfeld Kingdom, but if it's because of Irene… then get a grip. It's been six years."
His voice was flat—indifferent.
And just like that, I understood the real reason he'd called me here.
"...I'll keep that in mind," I said, then quietly left the room. My mood had hit rock bottom.
As I walked down the castle's long corridors, my mind was a mess. The memories I'd worked so hard to suppress during the royal court session came flooding back, one after the other.
I needed to distract myself. Fast.
I decided to head straight to my office. Therese and Greta were probably already there taking care of Gerlinde. I'd likely get scolded because of what I did to her—but honestly, that was fine. A lecture would be better than dealing with what was swirling in my head.
It didn't take me long to reach my office.
But when I entered, the room was empty.
It was spotless, as if someone had just finished cleaning.
Gerlinde had been napping, so she couldn't have done it. Probably Greta, then?
In any case, their absence likely meant they had taken Gerlinde back to her room to rest.
Which also meant…
The scolding would have to wait.
And with no one around to distract me, my thoughts had full control.
I walked over and collapsed onto my favorite sofa. Maybe a bit of sleep would help clear my head—get me back on track.
But I couldn't sleep.
And so, as expected, my mind started showing me everything I didn't want to see.
Irene Amalia von Eberhart.
She was the second child born into our family, after my brother Max. An upstanding woman.
She wasn't just intelligent—she was also charismatic. Everyone admired her. Everyone followed her.
Since our kingdom didn't determine the next monarch based on birth order, but rather on talent, it was common knowledge that Irene would one day be appointed Queen once our father abdicated.
Of course, that created conflict between her and Max and Lud—the other two candidates for the throne. But even they knew they were no match for her.
Irene was what you'd call the perfect leader—no, even the perfect human.
Despite her overwhelming talents, she still cared deeply for her brothers and made every effort to get along with us. That included me, too.
Normally, children of the royal family were raised by royal servants appointed by the king—our parents rarely had time for that themselves. But Irene didn't like that. Whenever she could, she took care of me personally. She taught me everything I knew. She was the one who told me I should work hard to impress Father as well. She said I was smart, that I learned quickly, and that I would surpass her in no time.
Thanks to her, I even started to believe that maybe I had a chance at becoming King. She always praised me, and little by little, I gained confidence—perhaps a bit too much, if I'm being honest.
But that all changed when I attended my first court session.
I was still just a child, but I had been allowed to sit in. Until then, Irene had been nothing more than my kind older sister in my eyes. But the person I saw that day was completely different.
She had an overwhelming presence, flawless eloquence, and a deep knowledge that supported every argument she made.
It was then that I realized—she was on a different level. A different kind of being.
She was nineteen at the time, yet the maturity she displayed was that of a seasoned adult. She was perfect. I knew at that moment I could never reach the same heights. And so, I gave up trying to join the race for the crown.
Of course, she noticed the change in me. She tried to encourage me to continue, to stay involved. But by that point, I was already too demoralized. I had begun to understand the quiet resentment Max and Lud harbored toward her.
Around that time, Irene had begun to spend more time with Therese, raising her much as she had with me. Therese adored her. I saw a reflection of myself in her. But unlike me, she had no interest in the crown. She simply wanted to become someone others could admire—like her beloved older sister.
Eventually, Irene became busier, and she asked me to take care of Therese in her place. I agreed since I didn't want her to feel lonely.
I was still her older brother, after all.
That's how Therese and I grew so close—though Irene still joined us when she could. Greta and Gerlinde were there too, as well as Irene's personal maid, Gertrude.
I remember those days as the happiest of my life.
But then, something changed.
One day, Irene fell ill. At first, we thought it was something minor—but it didn't improve.
She had contracted a rare, unknown illness that slowly weakened her.
She began spending more time in bed and eventually accepted her condition.
But in a way, that brought her closer to us. She spent more time with me and Therese, and she even tried to reconnect with Max and Lud.
Years passed, and her health didn't improve.
Eventually, she made the decision to withdraw from the race for the crown. She believed she could die at any moment, and didn't want the burden of the throne to fall on her unstable shoulders.
After that, her relationship with Max and Lud improved. Now that she was no longer a threat to their ambitions, they began to treat her differently.
Irene understood this, of course—but she was still happy their relationships had improved.
And then, when I was fifteen... It happened.
After all those years of suffering, Irene began to recover.
Naturally, we were overjoyed. But Max and Lud... not so much. They were wary. Irene, always perceptive, noticed. So she made it clear: even if she completely recovered, she would not return to the crown race.
Instead, she wanted to fulfill her duty in another way—as a royal woman.
By then, she was already twenty-four—long past the usual marriage age, due to her illness. However, relations between Eberhart and Hochfeld had improved significantly in recent years. So it was decided that she would marry the Hochfeld crown prince.
The marriage would mark the start of a prosperous alliance—perhaps even the first step toward uniting the two kingdoms.
Therese and I were, of course, sad that she would be leaving. But for Irene, after being confined for so long, this was a new beginning.
She had finally regained her smile.
Everything was supposed to be fine.
And yet...
I slowly opened my eyes.
"It's better if I distract myself with something."
I had originally tried to sleep in order to stop thinking about the past, but since that hadn't worked, it was better to find something else to do.
"Maybe I'll read something..."
Just as I approached one of the bookshelves in the room, someone barged in.
The person wasn't a robber or an intruder—it was someone I knew all too well.
"G-Gerlinde!? For heaven's sake, knock before entering!" I exclaimed, startled by her sudden entrance.
Indeed, the person standing there was my personal servant, Gerlinde.
Despite my reaction, she didn't stop. She ran toward me, her eyes burning with determination.
"Your Highness! This book—this book is for you!"
The moment she said that, she collapsed onto the floor, the book still clutched in her hands. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was ragged. It was clear she was unwell.
"Wait—are you okay!?" I rushed to lift her and lay her down on one of the couches in the room. I wasn't exactly used to physical labor, so it wasn't easy.
Gerlinde seemed unconscious now, so I couldn't just leave her like that. I hurried out of the room and told the guards to call one of the maids immediately. Before long, two maids arrived. With the help of the guards, they carefully carried Gerlinde away, saying they'd take her to her room to rest.
I considered going with them.
Although her current condition was partly my fault—due to the drunkenness earlier—something about the way I found her felt wrong. Her face, her voice, her desperation... it was as if she had gone through something terrifying.
I was about to follow them when my eyes landed on the book she had dropped.
It lay there, almost as if waiting for me.
A strange sensation crawled down my spine. The book radiated a peculiar presence, as though it was warning me—or calling out to me.
"What is this book…?"
What could've made her run to me in that state just to deliver this? Where had she even found it?
Questions flooded my mind. But most of them could probably be answered by simply opening it.
I picked up the book.
It was thick, with a dark, leather-bound cover that looked older than anything else in the room. Written across the front in gold letters was the title:
The Life of Charles Otto Leopold von Eberhart.