Chapter 6 : Two Masters
Just as I used to sense the approach of beasts in the wilderness, my scalp tingled in the presence of the Queen.
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Places mentioned:
Tyrannoson:
One of the three kingdoms on the Central Continent, ruled by the Valrino family.
Spring
The capital city of Tyrannoson.
Mertie
Ivan’s hometown, a rural village in Tyrannoson.
Dovewing
The Queen of Tyrannoson came from this nation that is northeast of the Central Continent.
East Land:
A continent across the ocean from the Central Continent. There are trades between the two continents, but no official diplomacy.
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Creatures (that can speak and have names) mentioned:
Leopoldo Valrino
The King of Tyrannoson, and the sixth monarch of the Valrino family.
Yisreal Valrino
A son of the King of Tyrannoson.
Carwen Valrino
King Leopoldo’s only daughter.
Queen Evelyn
Leopold'o’s wife. Her brother is the King of Dovewing.
Princess Irene
Leopoldo’s daughter-in-law, married to Prince Chester. She’s also a princess of Dovewing and Queen Evelyn’s niece.
Kimo
Ivan’s servant boy in the palace.
Mr. Galorde
Ivan’s grandfather’s apprentice, having served both his grandfather and father as their assistant.
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6
Two Masters
Galorde’s oversized, worried face appeared when I opened my eyes. I tried to get up but had no strength. Galorde gently pushed me back down and said, “Lie down. You’ve used too much of your power.”
“How’s the prince?”
He sighed.
“He died?” My heart raced, and I lifted my head, immediately blinded by the glaring sun. “Where’s that smuggler you were recommending? I need to go right now—”
I grasped the back of the chair and struggled to sit up again, but then I was distracted by my surroundings: the wooden furniture, the red sheer curtains, the massive windows—two stories high—opening to the east, and a room devoid of mirrors or servants.
Galorde looked up and patted my shoulders slowly. “Too late.” He stood, bowing to someone behind me. I turned around and saw a figure appearing on the upper floor by the stairs.
Wearing a white linen shirt, his loin girded, forearms wrapped in thick leather, and pants tucked into his boots, he looked lean, fit, pale, and clean. He gazed out the window as he descended the stairs slowly, the light entering his eyes as if going through a crystalline lake to the rock at its bottom—limpid and steely, a pair of eyes that seemed distant from his soul. He squinted but kept facing the window as if it were the first time he had ever seen the sun.
I knew who he was the moment I saw him, but I hesitated about who he really was—the story I had heard from Princess Carwen didn’t match the young man in front of me.
“Ivan, get up!” Galorde reminded me in a suppressed voice, then turned to Yisreal. “Your Highness.”
“Your Highness!” I echoed as Galorde helped me stand firm.
I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Not because he was incredibly handsome, but because he wasn’t what you would call charming. Quite the opposite of being magnetic, he was detached as he walked toward us, parting his surroundings like parting an ocean. He scanned me with those unreadable eyes and spoke in a much steadier voice than that of most men our age.
“You are his son.”
I hesitated in a flare of hope. “Yes, Your Highness.”
He observed me. I almost forgot that he was supposed to express his sorrow and gratitude, even if in a condescending way, since his gaze was void of intention—like that of a big old tree deeply rooted in the ground, watching people come and go. Just then, the Lord of Sanlostier flashed back to me—who also had a youthful face, an old disposition, and the grace of the immortals. Yisreal, too, exuded a kind of grace, which was a complex blend of indifference, confidence, bewilderment, and… strangely, wistfulness.