Capítulo 28: George Louis Albert.

"How long have I been out?" Stiles inquired as Alexia put the red fur-like coat on him.

"Approximately two days," Alexia replied without a care in the world.

Stiles's pupils dilated at Alexia's words. He couldn't help but think of why he was out for so long.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" He inquired with a sigh, his hand finding difficulty to fit in the coat.

"The physician advised you to rest up, your health matters most."

'I don't hate that you care for me, but… sigh'

"What happened?" Stiles decided to stop his train of thought and focus on the current matter.

"We received Intel from our informants in the neighboring communities…

Supposedly, they decided to form a united front against us."

Alexia's hands quivered as she stated. It was clear she felt frightened by the progress of things.

'I must say, Kynburgh don't have the odds on their side…'

"Am I fleeing or something similar?"

'In the books, I read about royals, the important figures usually flee when things are getting rough…'

"No, the King requested your presence, so you are heading for his room," Alexia adjusted Stiles's coat, before retreating to the side. "You look perfect."

"I'm meeting the King?!"

Stiles was about to ask some questions when Alexia suddenly held onto his jaw, her face hastily approached, almost rubbing against his face.

"Your eyes are no longer multi-colored." She commented with a hint of worry in her voice.

"You actually noticed that." Stiles uttered with a sigh. "It probably has something to do with my power, so there is no need to worry."

Alexia scrutinized Stiles' body, before releasing a heavy sigh.

"Alright, but I'd prefer you report such situations to me." She ordered, caressing my cheek with her palm. "Prepare your mind. And remember this, you can't let your guard down before that old man."

Alexia's voice was like a key to Stiles's transportation, as he felt himself get sucked into the void. At first, he thought of resisting but due to Alexia's relaxed state, Stiles let the force direct him.

Immediately after Stiles got sucked into the whirlpool, a female entered the room, smiling at Alexia.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Alexia asked the newcomer, her vision fixated on Stiles' former location.

"If he's the one, then everything would be okay, Alexia. Don't fret." The lady commented with an impeccable smile.

"If you say so, Rebecca."

Standing by the door was the redhead, Rebecca, dressed in a blue, flowy gown. She was one of the individuals who believed in the 'Crown' lore.

"Anyway, that shouldn't be your concern. I believe keeping the royal family and other high-ranking individuals in check until his return takes priority."

"I'm not good at politics."

Alexia had no interest in politics, so she was worried about what Rebecca was hinting at.

"It's time to draw their attention to a different matter, one related to you." Rebecca's smile widened. "What do you say, can you do this much for your Lord?"

"...?"

***

'Where am I…?' Stiles muttered to himself as his sight adjusted to his new location. 'It's huge… so this is where the king stays…'

In his vision range, Stiles could not see any bedridden male, which left him to ponder on the situation.

Like every room he had seen in the palace, this place was well furnished and decorated, giving it the appearance of a royal room.

'Where the hell is this king guy…' Stiles thought as he approached the center of the room.

He took seconds to appreciate some of the furniture followed by the portraits on the wall.

Similar to the ones he had seen on the passage wall, these portraits seem to depict previous rulers. They had a kingly aura to their existence—one that would make ordinary fellows want to bow.

'The artist behind these paintings is fairly skilled to have depicted even their auras… maybe I should find a good artist to paint a picture of me…' Stiles fantasized about getting a portrait for himself. One could say he had a narcissistic side to him.

"Seems you like what you see, lad." A frail voice echoed from the other extreme end of the room.

Stiles almost jumped back in fright at the sudden intrusion of another party. 'How could he avoid my senses?'

"Don't fret, I'm just an old man on his deathbed." The voice had a hint of sarcasm as it released those words. "Anyway, I'm sure you go by Stiles, the one that manifested the 'Crown'." The voice echoed again as if trying to emphasize Stiles's position.

"Yes, and I'll appreciate it if you reveal yourself," Stiles replied in exasperation, adjusting his clothing to fit his position.

"I'm not hiding, just that you lack the will to see me, lad."

'How irritating—talking like some god, while you are just a pesky old human male…' Stiles thought to himself.

He had the urge to rain curses at the man who claimed he lacked the necessary requirement to see him.

"Do you actually have time to play mind games? I thought you'd prefer talking about how to save this fortress."

Tired of the old man's theatrics, Stiles brought in a crucial point.

"Time is a concept that eats on my very being, lad." The voice sounded deep this time. "My biggest enemy at the moment…"

The old man seemed to be in a trance as he uttered those words of defeat. 'Death is something everyone fears—including me.'

"Sorry." He cackled. "I shouldn't be telling you such boring stories, rather, I'll like to give you some hints."

"Why should I believe whatever escapes your lips?"

From the corner of his eye, Stiles witnessed an old man on a wheelchair surface from thin air. Just as he had pictured, the old man had blonde hair with silver eyes that seemed to see everything.

'That Leopold guy surely takes after his father. I'm sure this will be his appearance when he gets older…' Stiles thought to himself, simultaneously scrutinizing the male.

"How rude of me, I forgot to introduce myself."

The old man giggled, stressing his wrinkled arm to scratch his hair.

'Despite his old age, he still has such vigor; his blonde hair hasn't been affected in the slightest…'

"I go by Goerge Louis Albert, the King of Kynburgh." He said with aloofness. "Tell me, lad. Do you want to become a 'Ruler'?"

A/N: character illustration for Stiles in comment.