Inside his private chamber, King Augustus sat alone, gently rocking in his old chair. His eyes, though open, were somewhere else—lost in a memory.
He was thinking of her.
Queen Elaria.
His beloved wife, long gone, yet never absent from his thoughts.
She used to love the garden.
Now, it lay abandoned—overgrown, forgotten. Much like the aching emptiness in his chest.
"Look at our son's black eyes, dear," Elaria once said, her fingers brushing through the baby's hair. "The whole galaxy resides in those eyes... Looking at him is enough to see the entire world."
King Augustus smiled bitterly at the memory.
And softly, he replied into the silence,
"Your son now truly wants to see the world—unlike you, who saw it in him. I hope he finds someone too... someone whose eyes become his whole world—and who stays."
---
Morning.
A gentle knock on the chamber door.
"Your Majesty, it's time for the Royal Court," a servant said from outside.
Augustus stirred. "Oh… it's already that time, is it?"
---
Inside the Royal Court.
"Greetings to His Majesty," the nobles and advisors echoed in unison as the king entered and took his place upon the throne.
King Augustus nodded once. His voice, calm and deep, cut through the air:
"Let us proceed with today's matters."
"Today, we have a very important matter to discuss," Minister Edrew declared, his voice echoing through the high vaulted ceiling. "It concerns the future of our kingdom—the royal marriage of the crown prince. Here is the list of potential candidates for the crown princess."
A wave of murmurs rose in the chamber—surprised gasps, then pleased smiles. The air shifted with excitement.
Commander Revas stood and said firmly, "Yes, let us choose wisely. After all, this lady will be our future queen. She must not only be soft in heart, but strong in spirit—one who can stand firm, and if needed… wield a sword beside her king."
Applause followed, hands clapping in agreement.
But then came the calm, resolute voice of the king.
"There is no need to choose," King Augustus said. "Let the prince decide for himself. It's not only about the kingdom's future… it's about his whole life."
The hall fell silent in deep respect.
Then, one of the elder councilmen spoke, "But… where is the Crown Prince? Shouldn't he be here to take part in this?"
The king turned to a nearby servant.
"Go. Summon the prince."
The servant nodded, hurried out, then returned moments later—out of breath and pale.
"Y-Your Majesty… the Crown Prince… he isn't in the palace."
The court erupted in whispers.
"What?" the king uttered, voice low but sharp.
The servant stepped forward, bowing deeply. "He… he left this letter behind."
With steady hands, King Augustus took the letter. His eyes scanned the seal—his son's crest. A hush fell over the chamber as the king broke the wax and began to read.

Prince letter:
To His Majesty, King Augustus,
Father,
If this letter reaches you, know that I am safe.
I did not flee out of hatred, nor rebellion, but out of a yearning to breathe—truly breathe—outside the golden cage I was born into. The crown weighs heavily, even before it's worn, and I needed to find who I am without it pressing upon my head.
This journey is not an escape but a search—for purpose, for truth, for freedom. I will return, not as a runaway prince, but as a man worthy of the future you prepared for me.
Until then, may you stay in strength and health.
Your son,
Octavio
—-----------
The king folded the letter slowly, the edges of his lips barely trembling. He didn't speak right away. Around him, whispers bloomed like wild vines—some fearful, others amazed.
But King Augustus simply looked to the window, where the sky stretched wide, open, and blue.
"He wants to see the world… may it shape him, not shatter him."
—-----
Meanwhile, at the quiet, mist-laced border of Obelion, two princes stood—one familiar with the world, the other just beginning to taste its breath.
Octavio had never imagined he would reach this place.
Not truly.
Now that he stood here, he found no words to explain the whirlwind inside him.
Excitement. Guilt. Fear. Wonder.
All tangled in a knot beneath his ribs.
He looked ahead. Beyond the invisible line that separated his kingdom from the unknown. The air smelled different here—cleaner, untamed. It felt like standing at the edge of a painting, where the canvas simply ran out.
"Don't think too much," Fabale said, walking a step ahead, turning back with that same teasing smirk. "It's not like you won't come back. Take the step, Octavio. Cross the border… and begin the new chapter of your life."
Octavio's heart pounded. His feet hesitated. The weight of Obelion, of duty, of his father's face—all pressed on his back like a cloak too heavy for his shoulders.
But then—
He lifted his right foot.
Took one step forward.
And for the first time in his life, Prince Octavio de Obelion set foot outside the walls of his kingdom.
The wind kissed his face like a blessing.
Behind him, the trees of Obelion whispered farewell.
Before him, a world unseen stretched far and wild.
He had crossed.
There was no going back—not yet.
Only forward.