CHAPTER 463: CHAPTER 463- THRONEROOM GOSSIP

The King’s Castle stood as it always had. A monolith in stone and steel. Today, all roads led to it.

In the early morning of the day, while the sun’s rays danced across the tall beams of concrete and high roofing sheets of the home of the Swanstorm Household, tension brewed.

And excitement beamed from their expressions as the path to the King’s quarters was riddled with guests of far and near.

Nobles and Aristocrats. System Users and none. Great Families, and the Royal Households.

All with different minds and aspirations, yet on this day, they came for the same goal.

The trial and apparent death of the Man who had nearly caused the deaths of their Kin.

The fool who couldn’t protect his domain.

The Headmaster of Homeric Academy for Gifted Children... and the current Head of the Dreau Household.

The air was a sizzling mixture of electrifying intensity and a solemn calm that carried the charge through the entirety of the Capital.

The Western Kingdom seemed... united for the first time in a long time.

•

•

•

As the white, tiled stairs led to the Throne room of the Castle, the Hierarchy had begun to settle down in place under the luminous light from the Glass Ceiling.

Long since the start, the King had settled on his Throne with a plain expression.

His calm was evident, but those who knew him would know he felt anything but calm.

Rhabanz Dreau had been a thorn in his side in the past... and was even more so when he had become the Headmaster of their prestigious academy.

But with that gone... and Rhabanz’s entire title forsaken for his deeds, King Marcello Tyson Swanstorm was finally given the chance to exact his revenge.

And they knew he relished it.

Besides him stood the King’s court.

The Chief Advisor, newly reinstated, Redrick Jafar, son of Dugu Jafar.

The Head Captain of the Imperial Guards, Bollam Jack.

The Commander in Chief of the Imperial Knights, Maxwell Thrombone.

The Head Butler of the Imperial Household, Nexulus Bon.

The Imperial Treasurer, Mikel Berry and the members of the Royal Households.

Amongst which, Salila, Queen and wife to the King, Manita, first Princess and Julian, second Prince were present.

They all claimed a place on the raised platform behind the King’s Throne.

With all seated on a Chair of their own.

Each representing their positions and hierarchy from the King.

Amongst these, two stood empty, and the owners were members who were currently... not present or not making it at all.

The Queen, despite keeping a silent demeanour in all Royal Gatherings, had glanced at each of the empty spaces with evident curiosity.

She turned first to her son, Jullian, who sat beside her.

"Where is your elder brother, Jullian?"

Her voice, smooth as silk and captivating in all the right ways, had gathered more attention than she had called for.

The King and the other members had unconsciously leaned in to their conversation.

Jullian simply shrugged without batting a glance towards his mother.

"I’m not my brother’s keeper, Mother. Thylan’s problems are your problems... not mine."

Salila’s brows knitted forward as a frown formed, but she turned away in silence.

A sigh hangs loosely from her lips.

"And you... Manita, where is your younger sister?"

Her expression had grown cold from her son’s reply, and her daughter’s only worsened it.

"Do you not even know how to find your own children?" Manita scoffed as her smirk grew wild while she fanned herself with a golden, intricately adorned hand fan.

"What a Mother."

Queen Salila’s gaze immediately went blank. Devoid of emotions and the curiosity that had sparked her.

She held her shoulders high and turned to her front where the King’s Throne sat directly in her gaze.

A subtle darkness crawled its way on her face.

A flush of something sinister as it irked something uncontrollable within her.

Yet, like every other day, she controlled it.

’Are you happy... Marcello.’

She wondered as she watched the man adjust himself on his Throne.

’You have gotten the children you wanted...’

She lowered her head slightly.

A deep sadness tugged the string cords of bundled emotions and nearly cut them clean.

But she was too firm to ever show what was truly within.

’...Children devoid of the warmth of a Mother.’

The King heard this all occur, but nothing tugged him to ever look back.

Instead, his lips tugged from the side.

•

•

•

At the corner of the Platform of crimson silk and silver, ornate carpets, Bollam Jack, current Head of the Imperial Guards had watched this unfold in silence.

He was adorned in their ceremonial armour of dull silver and black, though larger and spikier in certain parts than the others.

Besides him, a great sword, larger than the Chair set for him, rested on the wall behind.

His old, yet firm gaze caught on with things that should have taken a new member of the Court to take years to find out.

And with his insight, he had done his best to infer what he read from the room.

’How sad...’ He thought to himself. ’I heard the Castle’s workers call her the Marionette Queen, but I had never known it was this bad.’

A Marionette. A doll crafted for the sole purpose of the Creator, and whose will was ultimately tied in threads controlled by him.

The Queen had been compared to one many times, and on different occasions such as this... he had seen why.

He lost himself to his thoughts while the Throne room was quickly filled with the footsteps of Nobles, Aristocrats and Far Greater figures who took their positions and seats.

Rows of well-proportioned wooden seats lay at the sides of the Throne room.

And these were quickly filled by the rightful members.

"Will the Jun household come for today’s Trials?"

Bollam’s ears flinched for an instant as his head turned to the source of the voice.

"Those people? I highly doubt it."

Then his gaze darted to the voice that replied.

Maxwell Thrombone and Nikel Berry.

These two had been the oldest in their positions, and their loyalty to the King was unmatched.

Years of spending time together had brought them as partners. Allies whose bonds were closer than blood.

Brothers, you might say.

But none of that concerned Bollam.

"They are members of the Great Family... would it be right for one of the Great Families to be absent?"

The slim, yet well-muscled figure asked.

Nikel Berry, an Eighth Circle Mage, was dressed in a black silk wear that contrasted well with his silver hair and blue eyes.

It was a vest and a robe, similar to a Priest.

What one would expect from a Treasurer.

"It’s an important trial as well. I reckon they will come."

Maxwell Thrombone was larger, broader, and far more muscular than the rest—a man forged by war. His build could put even seasoned bodybuilders to shame. Though his ceremonial armour of silver and white concealed his battle scars, it could never diminish the true brutality of the wars he had endured.

On his face was a dark bushy beard he often stroked during deep thoughts and conversations such as this.

His crimson, fiery gaze was fixed on the incoming people while he folded his arms.

A moment of silence hung in the air after his reply, but it was soon pierced by Nikel’s scoff.

"Will they still be considered such? They have lost both their Patriarch and their Male heir. They are weaker now."

Maxwell groaned slightly.

"I thought the same, my old friend, but we should not underestimate them simply because they are a house of women now."

Nikel shook his head.

"Women who will have to marry to other Houses... their time at the Top was long... but it has cracked. They will soon fall."

The two kept silent for a long moment, but their conversation, short as it was, had carried a newfound vibration in the air.

Everyone had heard it, and their reactions to it varied.

To Bollam who once knew the Juns personally, this was nothing but useless gossip.

’The Jun household is strong... absolutely strong and their gender won’t limit it.’

He looked away.

’It doesn’t matter what these buffoons think... including that King. The Juns shall not fall. Not now... not ever.’

His gaze narrowed slightly after much thought.

’And if they threatened to fall... I, Bollam Jack, shall not allow it.’

The King, who had been seated silently in front of his Officials now had a pleasant smile on his face.

There were now two reasons that made that day a joyous occasion, and he would happily delight himself in it.

As his gaze hovered over his Throneroom, the people finally settled down, and the large doors began to be shut by the Guards who stood next to it.

He watched it all unfold in a chirpy mood.

His smile was evident in the curved line on his face and the demeanour that exuded from him.

In that delight, he stood to his feet and the whole congregation did the same.

He glanced around, specifically taking his time at the seats meant for the Great Families, and then the Royal Vassal Families.

Amongst the Great, six were left empty and amongst the Royal, one was left empty.

Time was of the essence but it never ran out. These seats would be filled and he was certain of it.

The King nodded slowly as he stared into space.

"Order in the Throne room."

He clasped his hands behind his back.

"The Trial will begin shortly."

***

Hello Readers (^-^)/

Sadly, no bonus Chapters this weekend (ToT).

Life and studies are weighing heavy right now, so I need to pull back a little.

But don’t worry—we’ll come back stronger next weekend (^^).

Thank you for always sticking around!