Noble Hall

The morning light filtered through the tall windows of the noble hall. Ethan entered with calm steps, his eyes sweeping over every detail of the room: tapestries, the kingdom's crests, and half a dozen nobles arranged in a circle, speaking in hushed tones. At the center, as if she ruled over that small theater, stood the princess.

Unlike the previous night, today she wore a darker, more formal outfit, which contrasted with the light tone of her hair. Still, what drew attention wasn't her evident beauty, but the absolute coldness in her eyes, as if none of it truly mattered.

"Here is the man who saved my life," she said, her voice soft. The nobles turned, some with expressions of genuine curiosity, others trying to measure who that outsider might be.

Ethan simply inclined his head slightly. "Your Majesty," he replied, simply.

"Come. I want you to meet those who serve me," she continued, gesturing for him to approach. He did, always keeping a casual, almost careless posture, yet attentive to every glance, every stray word among those present.

Among the nobles was an advisor with a tired expression, an attentive woman who seemed to be part of the personal guard, and a young man who barely hid his disdain. The atmosphere was polite but heavy with doubt and expectation.

"Ethan, isn't it?" the princess asked, looking directly at him. "Strange that you appeared at the exact moment to save me."

"Coincidences happen," he replied, letting a faint smile form at the corner of his lips. "Or perhaps it was fate."

The princess raised an eyebrow. "I, however, believe fate is rare in this world," she murmured, before turning back to the nobles. "This man saved me from something that could have cost everyone here far more than just my life. You should show gratitude."

Some quickly murmured praise or greetings. The arrogant-looking young man limited himself to a nod, saying nothing. Ethan noticed the details: who spoke first, who stayed silent, who looked away.

"They say you came from afar," the advisor remarked, his voice hoarse. "But we know little of you."

"And I'm afraid you'll only know what's necessary," Ethan replied calmly. "I simply wanted to ensure certain... outside forces don't destroy this kingdom before its time."

The princess, despite her apathetic expression, seemed entertained by the answer, leaning forward slightly. "Before its time? You speak as if you know something we don't."

"Who knows, perhaps I do," Ethan replied, his expression unchanged.

The silence that followed was brief but heavy. Then she laughed, almost without emotion, but enough to break the tension. "I like that. Honesty wrapped in mystery. Not everyone would have the courage for that in a room like this."

Ethan knew she wasn't truly laughing. It was just part of her game. Even so, he allowed himself to chuckle too, wanting to keep the conversation balanced.

Soon, attention shifted back to small comments among the nobles. Ethan used the moment to observe the princess more carefully. She didn't show anything that resembled genuine emotion; everything about her seemed calculated. He had met people like that before and knew it made her more dangerous… but also far more interesting.

"Your Majesty," he said, drawing their attention back to him, "may I ask the reason for this invitation?"

She crossed her legs, resting an arm on the makeshift throne. "I wanted to look into the eyes of the man who interfered with my plans, Ethan. And decide whether to keep you close... or get rid of you."

Ethan smiled without hesitation. "And? Have you decided yet?"

Her eyes gleamed, almost satisfied by the implicit challenge. "Not yet. But perhaps by the end of the day, I'll have my answer."

After the nobles dispersed, only the two of them remained in the hall. The distant sound of footsteps echoed through the corridors, but no one dared to interrupt. The princess rose slowly, stepping down from the makeshift throne until she stood face to face with Ethan.

"You still seem far too calm for someone in your position," she said, her lips curving into a crooked smile. Her voice, low and controlled, sounded almost like a provocation.

Ethan remained still, only following her movements with his gaze. "Position? I simply thought it would be rude to refuse a princess's invitation."

She stepped even closer, until he could almost feel the warmth of her presence. Her eyes, cold as glass, studied every detail of his expression. "You speak like someone used to dealing with power."

"Perhaps," he replied, meeting her gaze.

For a brief moment, Ethan managed to see something through her eyes. Something like genuine curiosity. But it quickly vanished, replaced by a faint smile. "I'm grateful you saved my life, even if I don't understand why you were there."

Ethan shook his head slightly. "I was simply doing my duty as a good citizen."

The silence stretched on. She stared at him a while longer but showed no sign of irritation. Instead, she let out a quiet laugh. "I like that… You don't try to deny or explain it. It makes you more interesting. Makes you… different from the others I've known."

He watched her closely. Her gestures were delicate, like a dancer who controlled every step. Even so, it was more than clear that her coldness wasn't a disguise, but her very nature.

"And you, Your Majesty?" Ethan asked softly. "Do you test everyone who gets close?"

"Only those worth the effort," she replied without hesitation. "And so far, you are."

The princess turned, walking slowly toward one of the windows. The morning light traced the lines of her dark dress, giving her an almost divine air. "They say trust is built over time, but I find that… tedious. I much prefer to skip steps."

Ethan took a step forward. "And how do you intend to do that?"

She turned again, eyes fixed on him. "Either you're trustworthy… or no better than a disposable piece."

His eyes didn't waver. On the contrary, they shone. "And do you think that decision would change anything in your plan?"

For a moment, her eyes shone in return, recognizing that he, too, was playing the game. "It would change more than you think, Ethan."

Silence settled once again. She took a deep breath, holding his gaze. "Tell me: why should I trust you?"

Ethan held her eyes. "Because I didn't come here to bring you down. On the contrary, my greatest wish right now is to make you my ally."

The princess didn't reply right away. She simply tilted her head, studying him as one might study something rare. Then she smiled, small, almost imperceptible. "We'll see if that's true."

Without warning, she stepped even closer until her fingertips nearly brushed his chest. "I still haven't given up on finding out who you really are, Ethan. Several of my servants are already looking into it."

"And I'm sure they'll find something," he replied in a low tone. "But only what I want them to find."

She laughed, truly this time, a brief, almost beautiful sound, though it didn't reach her eyes. "We'll see who uses whom first. But before that, there's someone who wishes to meet you."

The afternoon passed quickly, consumed by exchanges of words and veiled promises. When the princess finally dismissed him, Ethan walked through the stone corridors of the castle, guided by a silent servant to the royal audience chamber.

When he first arrived at this castle, he hadn't been sure if he'd truly get to meet the king. After all, to them, he was just a dangerous stranger. But apparently, the princess's interest in him was enough to grant a royal summon.

There, the torches burned low, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The atmosphere felt strangely still, as if even the air itself were holding its breath.

At last, the double doors opened. At the far end of the room, seated on a tall, dark wooden throne, was the king.

It was the first time Ethan had seen him. Gray hair, features worn by time, a simple crown on his head. His gaze, however, didn't match the rest, empty, dead, as if no one were truly there. Similar to, and yet different from, the princess's apathetic expression.

The king slowly lifted his head. "Ethan Blake," he said in a hoarse, dragging voice. "I hear I owe you thanks for saving my daughter."

Ethan gave a restrained bow. "I merely fulfilled my duty as a guest of this kingdom."

The king seemed to take a moment to process the words. Then, he forced something that resembled a smile. "They say you arrived here unannounced. That you brought confusion…"

"Perhaps…" Ethan replied, trying to keep his tone neutral. Inside, though, his senses screamed: something was wrong.

The mana in that place felt twisted, like a warped magic. His hand trembled, not from nervousness, but because Nexus pulsed faintly.

The king leaned a bit further forward. The movement was rigid and jerky, like a puppet tugged by strings pulled too tight. "And what do you intend to do now that you're at our court?"

"I only wish to protect those who need protecting," Ethan said. "And perhaps eliminate those who threaten this kingdom."

For an instant, the king's mouth twisted, a strange, almost grotesque spasm that matched no human emotion. Then everything returned to normal, as if it had never happened.

Ethan kept his gaze calm, but his mind raced. With every passing second, it became clearer: the man on that throne was no longer a man. He was just a body, kept standing by something, or someone.

The king slowly shook his head. "Then you're just another fool who thinks himself a hero…"

"No," Ethan replied. "I'm simply trying to do what I believe is best for myself."

Silence settled over the hall. Only the faint crackle of the torches and the sound of his own heartbeat filled the emptiness.

Finally, the king leaned back into the throne. "We shall see what you're capable of, Ethan Blake."

Ethan gave a short bow and turned to leave. As he walked toward the doors, he couldn't help but dwell on that voice that sounded almost dubbed over the corpse.

It was obvious the king had died a long time ago. What sat there now was only a puppet. But who held the strings… could be anyone. Even the princess.

But the greater question was: had no one else noticed this situation? Was the king hiding himself from everyone, or was it an open secret among the servants and nobles?