章 9: Ambition to Rule
***
The next day.
Calden Castle.
Lanercoast.
"HOAAM!"
Mary squirmed as she yawned widely. She was still on her back on the bed with blue sleeping pyjamas clinging to her body.
Quentin woke up early, around eight o'clock when the sun was shining its healthful rays.
The young man sat on a wooden chair, sipping his warm morning green tea. The window was open, the sun's warm rays stabbing into the room, making the young man feel refreshed.
The sound of Mary yawning distracted Quentin, causing him to spontaneously turn his head to his right. Quentin's eyes watched as Mary got up and sat on the bed, her face feeling heavy from the sleepiness.
"Good morning, Mary," Quentin replied, holding the green tea in a well-dressed suit, a red and gold noble suit and black trousers, his black hair combed neatly.
Quentin's two maroon pupils kept watching Mary, the girl who could no longer be controlled by his manipulation ability.
"When did you wake up?" asked Mary softly.
"Before the rooster starts crowing." Quentin lifted the glass of tea and brought the edge of the glass to his lips. He took an intimate sip of the drink, tasting the flavour of the finest tea leaf and the warm water that added to the morning's warmth.
Because of Calden Castle's location on the hill, the temperature was cooler, much different from when the two were at the reinforcement camp the other day.
Mary nodded, walked off the bed and stepped closer to Quentin. Now, Mary was fully seated in the empty chair ahead of Quentin.
Mary's older brother immediately poured the warm green tea into the empty cup for Mary to drink to make her drowsiness disappear.
"You've been looking dapper since early this morning. Is there something you want to do?" Mary asked flatly.
Quentin remained silent with his eyes glued forward, then looked away slowly to the left side to look at the room's open window.
"Yes. There is," Quentin replied briefly.
Mary sipped the green tea while watching Quentin's face closely. She clearly saw Quentin's eyebrows bent with a sharp look in his eyes, a sign he was ambitious for something.
"Does it have anything to do with your plan to avenge our mother's death?" asked Mary.
"Yes, it does," Quentin replied.
He moved his eyeballs to the side again, to the corner of his eyes. He looked at Mary, who sat comfortably with both hands holding a glass cup filled with warm green tea.
"What exactly do you want to do?" asked Mary, increasingly curious about Quentin's attitude.
Quentin chose to stay silent and put his empty glass on the table. No more green tea could be poured into Quentin's glass; three glasses in the morning was enough for him.
"Get ready. We're going to talk to Uncle Edgar," Quentin replied.
Mary nodded obediently. She hurriedly finished her glass of warm tea, leaving Quentin's chamber to return to her own room in another place.
Quentin also stood up, his legs stepping up to walk towards the full-length mirror displayed in the room.
'I have to do it.' Quentin spoke silently.
After waiting an hour, Quentin and Mary were ready with their clothes. The two walked out of the castle corridor on the fourth floor to reach the third floor, where Edgar was working.
In the distance, two soldiers in red cloaks with white eagles stood before a chamber. Quentin could guess it was Edgar's study as he had intended.
"I wish to see Lord Edgar," Quentin pleaded.
"My apologies, Prince Quentin. Lord Edgar is practising his sword in the backyard with Lady Marcella," the soldier replied.
"Very well. I will head down there," stated Quentin.
Just as Quentin was about to take another stride towards the stairs, Quentin's pace stopped when he heard someone calling him.
Quentin looked back, clearly seeing that Arabelle was the woman who had called him. Last night's discussion with her was still clearly remembered in Quentin's mind, the discussion about the successor of House Helferich.
"Have you convinced yourself to do so?" asked Arabelle.
"By becoming King Athalaris, I can easily find the main culprit of my mother's murder," Quentin replied.
"You want to be King?" asked Mary, shocked.
Quentin glanced quietly to the side, smiling broadly as he brushed a shocked-looking Mary's hair, "I won't stop until the murderer is arrested."
Arabelle smiled, then chuckled at that. Now, Arabelle's figure was fully present before Quentin.
"You will face great upheaval in the struggle for the throne. Edmund is the rightful heir. The entire House in Athalaris has sworn allegiance to him," Arabelle explained.
Quentin nodded. He realized his actions were against the laws of Athalaris, but Arabelle's bluff would not dampen his ambition.
He had prepared himself for the worst possibility that might happen. Therefore, he had to make a move now rather than never.
Arabelle stepped past Quentin, inviting the young man to see Edgar in the practice field behind this castle.
Quentin complied, following where Arabelle went until they reached the first floor. The young man could distinctly hear the clashing of iron swords, a familiar sound.
The three exited the castle through the room's open doorway, clearly displaying two armoured persons clashing swords with each other.
Not only Edgar and Marcella were there, but it could also be seen that five soldiers were on standby, watching the exercise carefully in the hope that no one would get hurt between them.
The swordfight between Marcella and Edgar was getting increasingly intense, leaving Quentin, Arabelle, and Mary in awe. In the end, Marcella fell with a longsword dropping from her hand.
Edgar pointed the tip of the blade at Marcella's head. The fight ended with the man winning for the umpteenth time.
"It's too early for you to beat me, Marcella," Edgar revealed.
Edgar's head swivelled to the side, watching Quentin with Mary and Arabelle at the edge of the practice field. The man sheathed his sword and handed it to the soldier accompanying him.
"Did you see that?" Edgar asked.
"Stunning swordsmanship, I think," Quentin replied.
"Prince Quentin came here to challenge you, Father," announced Arabelle, prompting Quentin to turn his head sharply.
"Haha, come here. I still have the energy to fight a youngster," Edgar retorted, walking back into the practice field.
Marcella walked up to Edgar and then handed him her sword along with the armour she had been wearing. However, Quentin only accepted the sword and refused to wear the armour.
"You look so confident, Prince," remarked Edgar.
"The proof of a man's worth is the number of cuts on his body," Quentin replied.
Edgar smiled widely, nodding in agreement with Quentin's words. The two men soon set up a stance and attacked by looking for their weak points.
Although Quentin was young, but he managed to keep up with Edgar's strength, not by blocking every attack, but by dodging them.
"You dodge a lot, huh?" asked Edgar.
"My hand is not as strong as yours. If I forced a blade fight, my sword would slip out of my hand," Quentin replied.
Edgar got even more excited when he heard that, trying to inflict the first wound on Prince Quentin's body. However, Edgar's breathing was laboured.
The previous battle with Marcella had drained a lot of the man's strength, so it was inevitable that Edgar's energy was depleted in the last fight.
"Huft."
"I didn't come here to practice my sword with you," revealed Quentin.
"Then?" asked Edgar.
Quentin stuck the tip of his sword blade into the ground, making Edgar and the others flinch in surprise.
"I have something to discuss with you. It has to do with the throne in Castlebourne," said Quentin.
"HAHA! Are you considering taking the throne away from Prince Edmund?" asked Edgar.
All eyes were now on Quentin, the third prince of King Otto Reingard. It was true Quentin had the right to the throne, but the right would be granted if the previous two princes were eliminated.
"Yeah. I will become King Athalaris and bring to light the murderer of my mother with the authority I have."
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