Aries continued to stare at me with that same look of hatred, his eyes boring into mine as if he could set me on fire by sheer force of will. I heard a faint, metallic groan; the silver spoon in his hand was beginning to bend under the pressure of his grip.
Elena let out a sharp, pointed cough.
The sound acted like a physical blow. Aries flinched, his knuckles white, and he immediately redirected his gaze downward, stabbing at his plate with a ferocity that suggested he was imagining the grilled meat was my neck.
But that was just a minor distraction compared to the presence at the head of the table. The King.
He wasn’t looking at his plate. He wasn’t looking at Elena. He was looking at me. His gaze wasn’t filled with the disappointed coldness as usual.
Instead, it was heavy with a sharp, piercing curiosity—the kind of look a jeweler gives a stone he previously thought was glass but now suspects might be a diamond.
I kept my gaze fixed on my food, the steam from the poached eggs rising to meet my face. It was overwhelming. The silence of the hall and the weight of his stare.
’Why is he looking at me like that?’ I wondered. ’Don’t tell me he already know about me and Elena?’
"Rio," he finally began, "The day you made Aries taste the ground, you must have realized you can no longer sit idle."
I slowly lifted my head, meeting my father’s eyes. There was no warmth there, but there was a newfound respect that felt more dangerous than his previous neglect.
"A prince who displays strength cannot return to the shadows of the ’trash’ pile," the King continued, leaning back. "You have awakened something. Whether it is a late-blooming mana core or simply a hidden resolve, my eyes are now upon you. And the eyes of your siblings even more so."
He glanced briefly at Aries’ bruised jaw, then back to me.
"Aries is a formal candidate for the throne. By humiliating him, you haven’t just defended yourself; you’ve entered the succession war, whether you intended to or not. In this kingdom, if you show your teeth, you must be prepared to bite, or have them kicked in."
I felt a chill. He wasn’t scolding me for the fight. He was acknowledging me as a successor.
"Elena has informed me that she will be taking charge of your ’education’ starting today," the King said, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk touching his lips. "I expect results. If you are truly a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Rio, then prove it. If not..."
He left the sentence hanging, but the implication was clear: If I couldn’t keep up with the monster sitting to his left, I would be abandoned.
"I understand, Father," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Good," the King said, finally returning to his meal. "Then finish your breakfast. You’ll need the energy. As you know Elena isn’t famous for her patience."
I glanced at Elena out of the corner of my eye. She was watching me, a small, knowing smile on her lips.
Did she tell him about the training in just the fraction of time I wasn’t here? She is really eager—terrifyingly so.
"Oh," the King added suddenly, pausing as he cut into a piece of venison, "the banquet is in a week, so be ready."
Banquet?
For what?
And why did he specifically say that to me?
Get ready?
The way he looked at me—it wasn’t the way you look at a guest. It was the way you look at a centerpiece.
I felt a cold sweat prickle at my hairline. I feel like this entire event is taking place just for me.
I looked at Elena, desperately trying to get some clarification, a hint, or even a warning. She didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, she slowly lowered her tea cup, met my gaze, and let out a soft, melodic giggle.
Seriously?
Last night you were clinging to me like your life depended on it, trembling and whispering about "never letting go," and now you’re just acting like you don’t have a care in the world?
The duality of this woman is going to be the death of me. One minute she’s a predator in my bed, the next she’s a refined saint giggling at my confusion.
"It is to celebrate your victory. As promised, this banquet is going to be held for the winner."
I hadn’t even realized Alvis was watching me. He must have noticed the sheer bewilderment written across my face and decided to throw me a bone.
I looked at him, startled. Alvis didn’t wait for a thank you; he simply offered a thin, cryptic smile, stood up, and walked away.
No one said anything to him. Mothers, siblings, even the King didn’t mind his early departure.
Alvis seemed to have some unspoken authority that every one respected, or perhaps it was a level of power that made them feel it was better to let him do as he pleased.
The winner? What kind of promise was that?
I realized then that my little "scuffle" with Aries wasn’t just a spontaneous fight in the hallway to everyone else.
In the eyes of the royal family, it was a sanctioned duel for status. And by winning, I had accidentally triggered a protocol that was now rolling toward me like a tidal wave.
"You heard him," Elena said, her giggle fading into that same sharp, focused intensity I’d seen last night. She stood up, her regal dress shimmering in the morning light. "You are the guest of honor, Rio. The whole kingdom will be there to see if the ’Trash Prince’ really did grow a spine, or if Aries just had a bad luck."
Aries let out a low, guttural snarl, his bent spoon finally snapping in half with a sharp ping.
"Don’t keep me waiting," Elena added, ignoring our brother’s tantrum. She began to walk toward the exit. "Every minute you spend sitting there is a minute we could be spending on your... Training."
I looked at the snapped spoon on the table, then at the King, who had already gone back to his meal as if I no longer existed.
The message was clear: I was a tool that had finally shown it had an edge, and now I was going to be sharpened until I either became a masterpiece or shattered under the pressure.
I remember him saying to have some sort of weapon this world have ever seen in the flashback I saw in the library.
And that weapon is supposed to be ME.
I pushed my chair back, the sound harsh against the stone floor. My appetite was long gone, replaced by a cold, buzzing anxiety.
I followed Elena out of the hall, feeling the weight of the King’s gaze on my back until we turned around the corner. We walked in silence for a few moments before I couldn’t take it anymore.
"Elena," I whispered, stepping up beside her. "The banquet... Alvis said it’s for the winner. What happens if the ’winner’ looks like a fool in front of the entire kingdom a week from now?"
She didn’t stop walking. She didn’t even look at me. But I saw her hand tighten slightly on the fabric of her skirt.
"Then I’ll have to burn the hall down before they get the chance to laugh," she said, her voice terrifyingly flat. "But that won’t happen. Because by next week, you won’t just be a prince. You will be something completely different."