They stepped onto the grand staircase, their movement slow, deliberate— commanding silence without a word. The murmurs that once filled the hall faded into stillness. One by one, heads turned, and all attention gathered upon them.
The nobles below, caught mid-conversation, straightened where they stood. Their attendants hovered close, arms laden with jeweled boxes and silk-covered trays— gifts prepared for the newly named heir.
Each step down the crimson carpet echoed softly through the hall, the golden embroidery glimmering beneath the chandelier's light. The air grew taut, thick with unspoken awe and scrutiny alike.
Even after they reached the floor, the crowd's gaze clung to them— watchful, unblinking— as they walked the royal carpet beneath a thousand judging eyes.
"These people… I wonder what's going on in their minds," Ray asked quietly, glancing at the nobles around them.
Grace's lips curved faintly— not quite a smile. "They're probably thinking how unworthy I am of this title, at least according to them. Some believe it should've been them standing here, not me. Many envy what I've been given, and a few…" she paused, her tone cooling, "…a few are likely already planning their next assassination attempt. Some for the first time."
"Assassination?" Rui's voice wavered, her expression tightening.
"Yes," Grace said softly. Her eyes softened, but her voice remained steady. "(I know I shouldn't be telling you this, but you need to understand. It's important that you both see the truth— the ugliness of this world, especially here, where power and poison walk side by side.)"
Ray frowned. "Is that why you sometimes come home with scratches on your hands… and your clothes torn?"
Grace's gaze flickered for a moment. "(Well, that's a different story, she thought silently, but not one I can tell you.)"
"But why?" Ray asked again, his voice edged with frustration. "They have kingdoms of their own— palaces, crowns, everything. Why come after you?"
"They're not all after me personally," Grace replied. "Some are— those with old grudges. But most… they just want what I have. Or what I will have. They want my place."
"Those jerks," Rui muttered, glaring openly at the crowd.
Grace laughed softly, the sound light but tired. "Rui, you don't have to glare at them like that."
"But these people—" Rui began, her face twisted in disgust.
"If you frown at them, they'll only grow more suspicious," Grace interrupted gently. "Just smile. Keep walking forward. Head high."
"But their fake smiles make me want to throw up," Rui said, her voice sharp with anger.
"Not everyone here is wearing a mask," Grace replied quietly. "Some are genuinely happy. There are still people whose smiles aren't false."
"Like Welfred?" Rui asked, eyes brightening.
Grace's expression softened, her voice warm. "Yes," she said with a faint smile. "Like Welfred."
.
.
.
"By the way, sister, how long have we been walking?" Ray asked, his tone half curious, half tired.
"I don't know, why?" Grace replied without looking back.
"It just feels like we've been walking for ten minutes and we're still not even halfway there."
Grace blinked. "Wait, really?"
"Yeah…" Ray glanced around, squinting down the hall. "You want me to look back and check how far we've made it?"
Grace stiffened. "No! Nobles are bound to keep their gaze forward, never behind."
Ray shrugged. "Right. Of course. Because looking back might offend the carpet."
Grace shot him a sideways look, half amused, half warning. "Ray…"
"What? I'm just saying— this hallway might actually be infinite."
Rui snorted. "Maybe that's the point. So no one ever actually reaches the throne."
.
.
.
.
.
"Maybe… you should sneak a look," Grace muttered without turning.
"What happened to your 'nobles never look back' speech?" Ray whispered.
"We can… discuss that later," she said quickly, already regretting how long the walk had become.
Ray glanced over his shoulder. "Bad news."
Grace sighed. "How bad?"
"We've only covered a quarter of the distance."
Rui groaned dramatically. "No way… my legs are giving up already. Just… leave me here. Tell the heir I fought bravely."
Grace stopped and turned to them, her mild annoyance settling into quiet authority.
"Rui," she began, voice calm but firm, "you do realize I'm the heir, right? The next in line to rule this kingdom." She gestured ahead toward the endless hall. "And if the heir herself can walk this entire path without collapsing, then surely her brave, capable siblings can manage a few more steps."
Ray and Rui just stared at her— blank, unblinking, completely unmoved. It was the kind of silence that said, 'we heard every word, but no part of us is inspired'.
Grace continued, her tone softening but still resolute. "Being heir doesn't mean it's easy—it means standing tall when everyone's watching, even when your legs feel like jelly. So come on," she said, straightening her back and lifting her chin, "we hold our heads high, smile if we must, and keep walking. A little walking can't faze us."
Rui whimpered. "It's not a little walking, it's a pilgrimage."
Grace sighed, muttering under her breath, "At this rate, we might need a royal carriage inside the hall."
"Um, sister…" Ray said, squinting ahead. "Why does that guy over there look exactly like Welfred?"
A heavy silence fell between them.
.
.
"Because…" Grace finally said, voice flat, "that is Welfred."
Rui's jaw dropped. "What?! How did the old guy reach there before us?! He took the longer path!"
"Maybe it's that thing he always talks about," Ray said. "You know— keeping a straight face keeps you young."
"But that's supposed to be for the skin!" Rui protested.
"Who knows?" Ray shrugged. "Maybe it works on the legs too."
They exchanged a knowing look, then both straightened up at once. Their expressions turned deathly serious— brows furrowed, lips pressed tight, eyes focused ahead like soldiers preparing for battle.
Grace slowed, eyeing them suspiciously. "What… are you two doing?"
Neither answered. They kept their faces stiff and unflinching, marching forward in perfect, exaggerated seriousness.
Finally, they spoke in unison— calm, reverent, ridiculous.
"We're practicing the Never-Ending Youth Technique, taught by our master—Welfred."
Grace stared at them for a long moment, utterly defeated. Then she sighed and muttered under her breath, "When did my life turn into this…"
.
.
They finally quit their 'eternal youth' practice once they noticed the only thing growing younger was their patience.
Welfred stood at the right side of the grand staircase, positioned before the second platform. At his side were the Lord Commander, two Royal Advisers, and the Knight Commanders, their presence lending an air of solemn authority to the gathering.
Opposite them, those of matching rank and station had taken their places in precise formation, maintaining the long-established order of court protocol. Only the Second Minister's absence disturbed the symmetry— a detail that did not go unnoticed among the assembled dignitaries.
Grace, too, noticed the absence. Her gaze lingered, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she murmured softly, "Where is—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Rui spoke up, breaking the moment. "Sister, I'm going to take a nap. Wake me up when we get there," she said, already sounding halfway asleep.
"Rui, no—don't pass out on us now! We're almost there. And seriously, how can you even sleep while walking?" Grace asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
"She can," Ray said dryly. "Trust me, sis— Rui could fall asleep in the middle of a sword fight."
Grace smirked. "Impressive. Maybe she's secretly training to become the world's first sleep-walker champion."
Rui's lips curled into a proud, sleepy grin.
Ray stared at the two of them in disbelief, thinking, "(Not you too, sister)."