Stepping out of the cell which reeked of urine and other unidentifiable fluids, Zach felt an odd sense of happiness. The satisfaction of knocking that old fool unconscious still lingered in his fists, even as he became more aware of the system's upgrades to his body and appearance.
If his current appearance could attract women and even men, did that not mean he had to be even more cautious?
What would happen if a High Level, Master Level, Grandmaster Level, or even a Supreme Master Level old smelly being took a liking to him and happened to swing the other way? There would be no chance of resistance. He would be turned into a mere plaything of a smelly old fart.
Not that he completely detested the idea of being a play thing, but it was a man with no boobs! No not that, if a man has boobs doesn't means he will be his play things, y'all getting his thoughts wrong!
"Sigh, now I understand why nearly everyone seeks either influence or power. It is to shield themselves from fates like this." Zach thought as he felt depressed with his current state.
At last, he reached the knights. They stood like statues, clad in silver plate armor from head to toe, no part of their bodies left exposed. They radiated a chilling killing intent that made Zach take an unconscious step back.
'This must be the legendary killing intent always spoken of in novels!' Zach subconsciously thought.
"So, uhm, as the prince from the Valford family, can you at least tell me what will happen to me?" Zach asked with a smile, though nerves pulsed behind it. Instead of a response, one of the knights shoved him forward toward a nearby room just outside the dungeon. It was reserved for prisoners about to be brought before the king, a place to quickly wash up.
"You have two minutes to wash up," one of the guards growled, tossing him a plain white commoner's tunic. "Wear this immediately after. If you take even a moment longer, we'll send a finger of yours to the king in your stead."
The threat sent a cold jolt down his spine. He realized then how badly he had erred. He had not paused to understand this world, had not restrained himself to learn of how the king act. He had simply acted, like a fool.
Not daring to waste another second, he stepped into the washroom. He needed it anyway. A single day in that dungeon had left him smelling like he had been born and raised within its rotting walls.
---
A few minutes later.
Zach walked down a long corridor and stepped into the royal dining hall. The grand chamber was filled with a long oak table, draped in silk, flanked by noble chairs topped with velvet. At the head of the table sat a middle-aged man with broad-shouldered and cloaked in a regal mantle lined with wolf fur. His hair was black with streaks of grey, and his eyes carried the cold, ruthless weight of an emperor used to enforcing his will.
His aura was oppressive, like a mountain pressing down on those before him. Just being in his presence made Zach feel like he was standing on the edge of a blade. The King of Valford had not even spoken of the incident with the concubine, and yet Zach could feel death hanging over him.
To the king's left and right sat two women whom according to Zach's memories were his main wives. They were dressed in elegant court gowns, their expressions neutral, their posture noble and stiff. Their presence signified their standing, unlike the king's concubines, who were not allowed to dine with him unless summoned. By tradition and decree, concubines remained in their own courtyards, only appearing before the king when called for political or ceremonial reasons.
Further down the table were seated the king's children and their spouses. The family hierarchy was clearly visible, each chair a rank in itself.
"Sit." The king calmly said those words the moment he saw Zach. Not even mentioning of the incident that happened.
Zach approached cautiously, and took his seat upright, just enough of his weight on the edge of the chair as if a cat on alert. He dared not look directly into the king's eyes for too long.
To his right sat a man and a woman, both in their early thirties. They were his second uncle and second aunt, according to the memories he had inherited from the real Zachariah Valford.
Zach offered his second uncle a polite nod. The man opened his mouth as though to speak, but was halted by a glance from his wife. He could only return a helpless look in Zach's direction. Her family had been gaining influence recently, which gave her voice more weight in certain political circles, though it was still the royal house of Valford that truly held dominion.
Zach had never been a favored member of the royal family. His second uncle had been the only one who occasionally showed concern. But with the incident still fresh and Zach's position further tarnished, even that bond now seemed severed.
To make matters worse, his second uncle and aunt had been married for years without a heir. This had earned the quiet disdain of King Valford, who valued bloodline and heirs above all. If not for the growing prestige of her noble house, the king might have already commanded a divorce.
The room was quiet as no one dared speak out of turn. The King of Valford was not merely a ruler as he was the embodiment of the throne's authority. His will was law.
After fifteen long minutes, the king's brow twitched with irritation making all eyes turned to him as he finally set the scroll in his hand aside.
"Send someone to fetch the Third Prince. He is taking too long," the king ordered, his voice cold as the steel of a drawn sword. One of the maids bowed quickly and left the hall to obey.
The meal had not yet begun. Nothing would be touched until all parties were seated or until the king gave the word.
Such was the discipline of House Valford.