Strolling through the hallway, Aurelious stumbled upon a familiar face.
A butler who despised the young prince for reasons the young man still did not know, though that did not mean he openly displayed his animosity.
"Lancelot, it's such a lovely day, isn't it."
The butler placed one hand against his chest and bowed.
"Your Highness."
The greeting came out almost reverently. The man appeared to be in his mid-forties, dressed in a black and white long-sleeved shirt with ironed black trousers hiding white socks tucked into slick black shoes. He wore white gloves and a black monkey jacket, had grey hair and green eyes, and a single gold-framed monocle attached to his right eye.
"Rise," the prince said casually. "I heard your son has been recruited by one of my brothers as a member of his Legion."
If one looked very, very closely, they would catch the faint gleam in the man's eyes, as well as the almost imperceptible twitch upward at the corners of his lips.
"It pains me he could not have the honour of being one of yours. You must forgive me, my Lord. It is my fault. Had I known you had your eyes on him I would have"
"Nonsense!"
Aurelious said it with a grin and a shake of his head.
"I'm actually glad my useless brother took him. I would sooner take a whore as a member of my Legion than the likes of your boy. Don't misunderstand, I have nothing against him personally. I simply don't trust you."
He said it with the calmest of smiles.
The hidden smirk on the butler's face fell completely, and with it, so did his expression. A visible frown creased his brow.
"My Lord, what might this humble servant have done to earn your distrust?"
A knee dropped to the ground as he looked up at young Aurelious.
"Well, many things. But here are a few."
Aurelious held up a finger.
"One, you have been hiding the fact that I have a monthly allowance from the main estate being allocated to me."
The moment those words landed, Lancelot's expression collapsed entirely, his mouth hanging open, visible beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.
"M-my Lord..." he tried, to which Aurelious raised a hand, signalling him not to interrupt until he was finished.
"Two, hiding the fact that you have a daughter who will be awakening at exactly this time tomorrow, just as her brother did two days ago."
Those words shook Lancelot far more than anything else had.
"...Should I go on?" asked Aurelious with an innocent smile.
Only Lancelot understood the full gravity of the situation before him. Diverting funds meant for royalty was nothing less than treason. He and his entire family could be hanged at this very moment with a single word from young Aurelious.
"FORGIVE THIS SENSELESS AND WORTHLESS SERVANT, YOUR HIGHNESS! I AM TERRIBLY SORRY! IT WAS NOT MY INTENTION TO UNDERMINE YOUR GRACE, FORGIVE ME!"
He kowtowed, his face pressed hard against the ground.
"...Hmm?"
Aurelious tilted his head almost robotically, staring down at the man.
"Look at me," he said after a while.
Lancelot hesitantly complied.
"I want the records of every sum of money sent here on my desk before sundown, as well as access to the accounts it was deposited into. Also..." He paused. "Send your daughter to me first thing after she awakens tomorrow."
He patted the man's head.
"I don't need to tell you what happens if you fail me, do I?"
Lancelot nodded rather meekly.
"I... I will see to it immediately, Your Highness."
Aurelious nodded.
"Good. Now go hand the chief of my guards some money for the road. I'll be headed to the city shortly."
The man nodded before rushing off like a child who had just witnessed untold horrors.
"Now then, where was I?" muttered Aurelious, a finger drifting to his chin before a thought crossed his mind.
"Yes. Enslaving that bastard's lover."
"Where to, Your Highness?"
Aurelious heard the question as he approached the carriage.
"Grey District," he said, to which the knight bowed and opened the door for him.
Aurelious Morningstar was by far the worst Morningstar to ever be born.
He had no talent, save for those strange eyes said to be a blessing of a god, and the faint possibility that he might be an Avatar.
But that was it.
No one knew whether he would even awaken a Sypha, let alone his bloodline. He couldn't even awaken the most basic thing, which was an affinity. The only thing he could do was utilise spells, and that was the whole of it. His future was bleak. Not even a fool would consider him worthy of participating in the Battle of Heirs, let alone winning it.
But nonetheless, young Aurelious was still a Morningstar, and by that right alone he was entitled to build his Legion in preparation for the said battle.
This time, however, things were going to be different.
He wasn't going to do what he had done in that future past life he had the misfortune, or perhaps fortune, of living through when he fell into a coma a year ago. This time he wasn't going to trust a single soul. So instead of a conventional Legion, he was going to build something else entirely, something that was more or less a group of soul-bound slaves who could only betray him at the cost of their lives.
And what better candidates than the Heroines.
As he termed them, referencing the literature he used to read. The lovers of that fool he had trusted, only to be killed by. They were going to be among the most powerful in this world regardless. He could tell. So he would enslave them before the future he had witnessed had any chance of coming to pass, and they would be his sword.
'Oh, young Morningstar. The fates would sooner erase themselves from existence than see you triumph.'
He recalled the words of the oracle from that future. Words he had once dismissed and only truly understood when numerous swords were pierced through his body.
"It will be different. It will be."
"We're here, Your Highness."
The young prince heard it and slid the window open.
The enormous high-rise building he had been aiming for filled his view.
"Yes. This is it," he thought.
A grin so malicious it was unsettling to look at graced his lips.