บท 498: Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 263. Legacy I
Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 263. Legacy I
Angel turned on his heel, his hand tightly holding Rose's. The final glance he cast at King Gervis was filled with unspoken complexities.
"I hope you keep it this time. Since there's no other time," Angel warned with an icy voice. The words hung in the air, a blend of a stern warning and a plea for a semblance of peace amid the storm. King Gervis, however, remained silent, a brooding figure on the sidelines. The weight of the recent events and the verdict pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Frost, standing nearby, watched the scene unfold. His gaze was a mix of loyalty and readiness. When Angel signaled, Frost conveyed the order to lower their weapons, and Euphorion's soldiers obeyed promptly.
"I will trust the rest to you, Frost," Angel declared, placing the mantle of responsibility squarely on Frost's capable shoulders. "Yes, Your Majesty," Frost responded with a nod, accepting the charge.
Angel's parting words were clipped, adding a touch of personal distance to the formal proceedings. "Also, deliver my breakfast to my room. I'm not interested in having breakfast with the crowd," he stated, a clear indication that the rift between Euphorion and Asteria extended beyond the political to the personal. With that, Angel and Rose departed, leaving behind a corridor filled with murmurs and speculation. The royal drama, though momentarily subdued, had left an indelible mark on both kingdoms.
The corridor stretched ahead in a silent expanse, the only audible sounds being the measured cadence of their footsteps and the hushed breaths that lingered in the quiet morning air. Angel and Rose walked side by side, the echo of their steps creating a rhythmic punctuation to the stillness that enveloped them.
The guards, usually a vigilant presence, were mere shadows in the periphery, their attention solely consumed by the events unfolding in Ilex's room. The atmosphere bore a heavy weight, a palpable tension that seemed to seep through the stone walls.
For Angel, the silence held a familiar resonance, echoing the quietude she had once known. It was a solitude that wrapped around him like a shroud, a paradoxical comfort in its unspoken simplicity. In this tranquility, each footfall became a reverberation.
As they moved through the corridor, Angel's thoughts drifted into the recesses of his memories, where silence was a refuge, a space where introspection thrived.
The morning light, filtered through small windows, cast elongated shadows on the stone floor. The corridor seemed to stretch into infinity, a pathway of contemplation in the midst of turmoil. The silence persisted.
Rose's voice, edged with a mix of disbelief and lingering tension, cut through the corridor's residual hush. "You let him go," she asserted, her gaze steadfastly forward, refusing to meet Angel's eyes. In her mind, the consequences of sparing King Gervis were as intricate as the court intrigues that unfolded within these walls. She understood the political gambit — King Gervis's demise might plunge Asteria into chaos, but Ophelia's stance could evolve with time. Rose, too, had emerged from a realm where power dynamics were anything but straightforward.
"I wish I could kill him that easily," Angel's admission resonated, his tone maintaining its customary frigidity. His countenance, an enigmatic mask, offered no glimpse into the tumult beneath. Continuing their stride, his gaze briefly flitted toward the row of windows, sunlight streaming through like liquid gold. The warmth that caressed his face seemed incongruous with the cold decisions he was forced to make.
"Unfortunately, the prince of Asteria inside me is still alive," Angel stated, a cryptic revelation laden with layers of history and complexity. The weight of his dual identity, both Euphorion and Asteria, hung in the air. It was a reminder that Angel carried not only the mantle of Euphorion's king but also the echoes of Asteria's past and the unresolved chapters within his own soul.
Rose sensed the currents of history converging, and the burden of Angel's choices rested not just on political strategy but on the legacy he bore from his birthplace.
"Dying, but still alive," he added again. "King Gervis' death will only trigger revolution and chaos. Many people, commoners, will die due to the crossfire and I don't want that. Although I'm impatient, I'd rather wait than involve too many people I shouldn't," he admitted.
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