webnovel

Your Majesty, the King

Mature content warning: Story contains depictions of violence, gore, and severe psychological illness. Silas, a young elven soldier, is sent to kill the country’s royal family, who is trying to eradicate the elves from the continent. Unfortunately for Silas, the crown prince is a young child, and Silas is unable to bury his humanity to kill the young boy. Instead, Silas helps the young prince escape, which sets off a chain of events that forever changes both of their lives and intertwines their fates together. Ten years later, Silas is a hardened soldier and spy, who has buried the events that happened that fateful day. Yet the crown prince, Clarence, has never forgotten Silas's role in his life. This leads the pair into a spiral of hate, war, and revenge as they try to put aside their differences and piece together the Yursear Kingdom, plagued by racism, death, and poverty. 1v1, slow-burn romance, hate to love. ____________________________________________________________ Your Majesty, the King (c) Cat Masseuse and Hunny Bee. All rights reserved. Any reposting, sale, translation, etc. without permission is prohibited. Please contact the authors with questions. Translation policy: bit.ly/3xP6d6P

Cat_Masseuse · LGBT+
Pas assez d’évaluations
178 Chs

Chapter 73: Barmecide Feast

Note: Barmecide feast - Something that promises much but delivers nothing; an illusion. Denotes any pretended or illusory generosity or hospitality.

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Chapter 73:

Barmecide Feast

As a line of sweat slid down the captain's face, he wiped it away with disgust and annoyance. His eyes remained locked onto the new recruits as they fiercely trained, their grunts and groans lifted through the air with the dull tangs of their wood practice swords hitting each other, each hit landing at a different time, echoing in the cold air of the early morning.

"How long have they been training?" Beau asked coolly, his eyebrow raised as he glanced over at his assistant, who snapped to attention at Beau's question with a jump of his shoulders. Beau almost sighed by the display, but he managed to let it out as a slow, even breath instead, his eyes narrowing in frustration.

"Captain Laurent, they have been training for six months." Beau shut his eyes at the answer, this time unable to control the heavy sigh that had been inching up his throat.

"Six months? Incredible. I have never seen such a horribly uncoordinated, improperly dressed, under-trained group of supposed 'soldiers' in my life. We might as well be training children to fight." Beau took a deep breath, trying to control his anger, "Where is the lead in charge of training them?" Beau said with a forced smile, each word he spoke said carefully, as if he was going to scream if he did not watch himself. His helper, a young man of extraordinary intelligence, but only mediocre in battle, nodded fiercely as he answered.

"He is on the field, sir. Shall I summon him?" As the helper pointed out on the field, Beau's eyes turned towards the man he had directed at.

Of course the incompetent fool is one of the royal advisor's sons. Beau's eyebrow twitched as he looked down at the well-dressed man barking orders to the soldiers, Pathetic. He doesn't know what he's doing. He is only retaining that position, because of who his father is and who his father knows. Beau disdained this practice, but he had to be careful with what he said. Unlike many of the nobles' sons, he did not have the familial background to protect him if he offended the wrong noble or said the wrong thing. He had been able to get to his position through years of hard work, but it would only take one angered noble to take it all away.

"Don't bother." Beau said, stepping away from the arena balcony and walking back to the entrance. His helper quickly nodded before he hurried after Beau as Beau's cape whipped behind him. Beau sighed again as he thought to himself, Even if I did say something, I would only receive backlash for questioning a noble's son. Nothing would change, so what's the point?

As his helper looked up, listening to Beau's angry footsteps and watching his slightly sunken, defeated shoulders, he could not help but shrink a little himself. He had idolized the captain since he first saw him during his first day of training, and he was immensely proud to stand behind the revered captain. As he watched the captain now though, he was shocked and saddened that the famous Yursinean bloodhound was so easily controlled by things outside of his control.

"Captain Laurent!" A soldier said, running up to the captain and his helper before he stopped and saluted, "The crown prince has requested your presence. He seeks it immediately. I shall guide you, if you are prepared now."

Beau looked down at the fresh-faced soldier, too young and naive to understand the significance of what he was commanded to do, "Take me to the crown prince." But before Beau began following the young soldier, he turned towards his helper, who waited patiently for his command. Beau smiled weakly at the display, "You're dismissed for today. Meet me here tomorrow at dawn."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise at the generous time off, but snapped to attention as Beau began to walk away. He mustered his courage and shouted, "Thank you, sir!" Beau did not turn around, but he raised his hand in recognition as he walked away.

"Welcome, sir. They are waiting for you inside." One of Clarence's many attendants said, bowing deeply as Beau approached the large door, his expression aloof.

They? Beau thought to himself as the attendant promptly opened the door and stepped back, allowing Beau to enter.

Beau's face was like ice, unmoving and lacking any emotion as he stepped inside the room. Before he said anything, he took a moment to glance around the room, taking in the environment. On a large sofa to the left was a scowling Alywin. His arms were crossed tightly across his chest, and his expression was grim. Next to him, covered in a blanket, was one of the fiancee candidates. Her face looked haggard, and her shoulders were trembling under her blanket. Beau racked his brain, but could not remember her name. He left it for the moment.

Right of that sofa, there was a small, wood table. It matched the wood floors, and its trim had etches of different flowers native to the Yursear kingdom drawn into it. Sitting on the table, in the center, was a steaming pot of tea sitting in a pristine white tea pot. Six matching cups sat untouched, waiting to be filled with the fresh floral tea inside the teapot. Opposite of the left sofa was another sofa, this one occupied by a shaken young man, his hands trembling in his lap. His wide eyes were concentrated solely on his trembling hands, not even registering that Beau had entered the room. Though Beau could not see his face well, Beau still managed to recognize him, as he had met him after he had saved the crown prince from a fatal poisoning. He remembered that the young Marquis Earnest Belland was recruited by the royal physician as an apprentice. Beau scowled as he realized that the young man's presence, as well as everyone's current state, was a cause for great concern.

Just what have you been up to, Prince Clarence? Beau wondered to himself as his eyes continued through the room.

Next to the only window in the room was a smiling Prince Clarence, who pressed one shoulder against the window sill, staring out at the expansive garden. Though Beau had made his presence known, Clarence ignored him and continued to look out the window. Beau cleared his throat, closing his eyes so he did not roll them,

"Greetings, Your Majesty." Beau said with a bow. As he rose, Clarence finally turned towards him and smiled, his grin sending a shiver down Beau's spine.

"Good evening, Captain. Take a seat if you want. We're just waiting on one more person."

"And who would that be, if you don't mind me asking?" Beau said, his eyes sliding over to the six empty cups. There were only five people in the room currently.

"Don't worry! You'll find out when they get here, and they won't be long." Clarence said with a dismissive wave, looking back out the window.

Beau, seeing that he was going to get no further answers from Clarence, who seemed glued to the window, turned back to the small group sitting on the sofas. None of them looked like they were in a place to be able to say much, but Beau decided to take a seat and wait. Whatever had happened before he arrived and whatever will happen once their final companion arrives, he did not know. As Beau took a seat and sighed heavily, Alywin looked at him with a sharp glare.

"Can I assist you, Marquis Cyneric?" Beau asked coolly, his back leaning against the stiff sofa.

"Whatever he asks, refuse." Alywin whispered heatedly, his hands tightening on his arms.

"What?" Beau mumbled, looking closely at the three people sitting around him. Each of their faces were ragged and scared. What Beau originally took as a scowl on Alywin's face was actually a look of frustrated fear. The fiancee candidate next to Alywin continued to shake, her face contorted in dread. Next to him, the young Earnest squeezed his eyes shut, appearing to be moments away from crying.

Beau swallowed, though his mouth was dry. Beau, who could usually adapt to any situation, was incredibly uneasy.

"He's here!" Clarence said, finally peeling himself away from the window and walking towards the shaken group, "Well, don't be so sour everyone. This is exciting! I'm finally going to reveal why you are all here!"

"Clarence, I told you there's more pressing matters right now than your stupid plan!" Alywin snapped, "We need to handle this situation with Marchioness Hallan first. And then what are we going to do about what Marquis Belland has said?! This is serious!"

"Alywin," Clarence said with a beaming smile, his eyes brightly lit with a strange excitement as he spoke in a lackadaisical manner to Alywin, "I told you I'd deal with it, didn't I? Don't ruin this moment. I've been waiting for this for a long time."

"Unbelievable." Alywin muttered to himself, looking away in disgust. Beau looked over at the frustrated Alywin in silent surprise. He had never seen the stubborn young marquis step down so easily from a fight.

Is it only Prince Clarence who has been changing?

Beau stared back at Clarence, waiting patiently for him to continue, but Clarence remained silent, staring up at the ceiling in anticipation.

"What happened with the marchioness?" Beau asked, turning away from the silent Clarence and instead turning his gaze towards the frustrated marquis.

"It's nothing you can help us with." Alywin said shortly, glaring momentarily at the waiting captain.

"I'm a captain, Marquis. There is not much in this palace I can not do." Beau's expression remained cool, but he paused for a moment before continuing, "And, seeing as you're not getting the help you are seeking, don't you think it's worth telling me?"

Olicia, whose head had stayed down the entire time Beau had been in the room, not meeting anyone's gaze, slowly lifted her head at the captain's words.

"I heard something. Something important." Olicia whispered, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"And I saw something I never should have seen." Earnest added, squeezing his eyes shut, as he squeezed his hands into tight fists, "It might have well been a monster."

"A monster?" Beau asked, holding in his skepticism only because of Earnest's pained, scared expression.

"Enough, Earnest!" Clarence shouted, removing his eyes from the ceiling to glare at the group, "All of you, stop. This is supposed to be an exciting moment, but the only thing you all are doing is complaining and moaning! I won't hear of it anymore! I-"

A muffled thunk sound stopped Clarence in his tracks. As he turned around, towards the sound, everyone looked towards the noise, then each other. Clarence, who seemed to have forgotten about his rant, ran to the window and threw it open. With no regard for his safety, he reached out the window and retrieved an arrow that was stuck in a thick vine below the window sill. While Clarence stared at it, his displeasure written on his face, everyone except Beau looked away. Beau, instead of passively waiting, watched the young prince curiously.

If whatever he was waiting for came through the window, why did he keep watching the ceiling? Was he expecting something else?

Beau watched Clarence's displeased expression with interest as Clarence untied the note attached to the arrow and dismissively dropped the arrow on the ground, focusing more on the contents inside the note as he read furiously.

First, Clarence remained eerily quiet, finishing the last part of the note. Then, a small smile grew on his lips, only big enough to show off a sliver of his white teeth. Finally, very quietly, he began chuckling to himself, his shoulders hunching very slightly with his quiet chuckles. With one hand, he dropped the note, with the other creeping up to his face before it rested over his eyes. Suddenly, his head threw back as his chuckles changed to a loud roar of laughter, his chest heaving with his heavy cries.

Still, no one reacted to Clarence's extreme outburst. It was like everyone had wrapped themselves in cocoons, where they could not hear or see anything. Beau, who was the only one who seemed aware and present in the current situation, found everyone's reactions very unsettling. But the most unsettling thing to Beau was the dangerous air around the prince, mixed with an apprehensive dread filling the room the more Clarence laughed. Beau watched the prince with a heavy gaze, keeping his eyes on the note lying lifelessly on the ground.

As the strange group sat bewildered, lost in their own thoughts, Clarence suddenly stopped his barrage of laughter and instead stepped forward, no longer holding the letter in his right hand. Carefully, with a smile gracing his lips, he walked towards the table of six empty teacups and rested his hands on either side of the narrow table. Looking down, the wisps of steam from the teapot lifted by his face, blurring his features momentarily before Clarence's grip on the fine wooden table tightened, cracking the wood surface with a splintering sound.

"That incompetent imbecile!" Clarence screamed, releasing his grip on the sides of the table as he lifted his right arm, swiping it across the table, shoving the glass tea cups and the full, heavy porcelain teapot off of the table and onto the ground. The crashing sound was loud, snapping the others out of their frenzied daze as they stared forward at Clarence, whose chest was heaving, his face distorted with anger. The tea spilled on the floor, splattering itself just short of the other inhabitants of the room.

Beau stared at the prince's sleeve, soaked in steaming hot tea, but Clarence did not seem to notice the pain. Rather, his breathing was heavy, his hands shaking at his sides as he strode towards the window, the letter lay crumpled beyond recognition and becoming stained with the hot tea that dripped from Clarence's arms. The ink was smeared and blotted, no longer readable, but Clarence left the stained paper on the ground, as if the information it held was now worthless to him.

"Clarence!" Alywin stood up suddenly, yelling the young prince's name, but he was suddenly stopped by Beau, who stood up and stuck his arm out, holding back the marquis with a daunting expression, his lips frozen as a flat line.

"Stay back, Marquis Cyneric." Beau stated, holding his arm up without touching Alywin. "The prince is under my protection, but I can't allow you to get hurt as well."

As much as Alywin wanted to shove the captain's arm aside and step forward, he looked towards Clarence and swallowed back his protests, holding himself in place. Though Alywin would never say it out loud, Clarence's expression made him nervous. He felt as if Clarence was regressing back to when he was an out-of-control child. Unfortunately now, Clarence was an adult, and that would make him so much harder to help.

With the captain blocking Alywin from going forward, the fear in Olicia's heart grew more. Under the cover of the blanket, she began to tremble more and more, feeling even more frightened by Prince Clarence's unruly, insane display. Marquis Cyneric brought me here to protect me, but can this madman really help me? Her teeth chattered noisily as she drew in the blanket closer, her pale face white as a sheet. To think I was supposed to try and marry him. Insanity.

Earnest's eyes were focused on Clarence's arm and hands, still dripping with hot tea. The pale surface of his hands had been stained red and looked irritated. If he did not treat his wounds shortly, it could become worse. However, as he thought of the elf in the dungeon he had treated, he felt that the prince would be just as difficult to handle. While that elf was restrained, the prince had no shackles to control him. The strength in Earnest's legs was lost, and the will for him to help lessened the more he stared at the prince's heaving back.

As he stepped past the arrow on the ground, Clarence lifted his foot and stomped down heavily with his boot, shattering the thin wooden arrow into wood chips. The smile on his face returned as he continued to stomp on the individual pieces, scattering the remaining pieces with the heel of his shoe. His eyes were fixated on the small pieces of wood, staring as if he were staring at a precious gem, full of greed and desire.

"How could he almost die such a senseless death?" Clarence muttered, barely audible to the small, bewildered audience in the room. "To allow himself to be killed by someone other than me? How dare he."

"Prince Clarence, what happened?" Captain Beau asked, his expression grim as he looked over the remnants of Clarence's anger. Clarence's eyes snapped over to Beau, who remained like stone through Clarence's heated gaze. Clarence, after a few moments of calculated silence, laughed and ran his hand through his hair, catching the stray hairs that came loose through his rampage and smoothed them back.

"Our final guest failed. He was supposed to deliver a very important letter, and he failed." Clarence took a deep breath, letting his shoulders stoop as he let the breath out, "The elf that tried to kill me. I have something he wants. And the letter I wrote was supposed to tell him this. This was my chance to get revenge." Clarence paused, running a hand down his face, "But he almost died. Even now, he's in a coma. How am I supposed to get revenge," Clarence asked, slamming his fist against the wall in sudden anger as the tone of his voice rose, "What am I supposed to do if he dies?! What's the point of all this if he dies?! There's nothing I can do!" Clarence repeatedly hit the wall, his red, burned arm bruising as it was slammed against the unmoving wall.

"Your Majesty, your arm needs immediate treatment. Please take a moment and let Sir Belland treat you." Beau said with a small bow, dropping his arm that held back Alywin. Clarence looked at them all, taking in a shaky breath, before he nodded slowly. Alywin, noting Clarence's change of demeanor, moved past Beau and went to Clarence's side. He gingerly picked up Clarence's bloody, burned arm, looking it over as he tsked to himself.

"Look at what you've done to yourself!" Alywin chided, pulling out a handkerchief and dabbing at Clarence's arm, "Imagine what people will think if they see this! They'll think there was another assassination attempt!"

Earnest, as if awakened by a trance, promptly stood up and moved to Clarence's side, taking in Clarence's injury as he pulled out his medicinal satchel, "The wounds only look superficial. If we treat it immediately, it most likely won't scar." He retrieved a piece of fabric from his satchel and applied a cooling ointment, beginning his treatment on the unstable prince.

As Clarence received treatment, Beau looked back at Olicia, who also seemed to awaken from her trance. Instead of a foggy stare, she was frowning deeply, her eyebrows furrowed heavily. Noticing everyone's flurry of movement, Olicia seemed to decide to take action. Stiffly, she stood up and took the blanket off her shoulders, mechanically folding it and placing it back on the small couch.

"Sir, could you please take me back to my room?" Olicia asked, her hands tightly gripped in front of her as she stared back at Beau, "I don't know how to get back to it from here."

Beau stared at Olicia for a moment, taking in her question, before he then nodded his head at Olicia, agreeing to her request, "I will take my leave then." Beau said to the prince, who did not acknowledge his presence, and bowed deeply. He then nodded again at Olicia before he stepped towards the door. Beau opened it and stepped to the side to let Olicia through, and she followed closely behind him.

They walked side by side down the hallway in silence, their heels clicking aloud in the quiet, echoing hall. The sounds from inside the prince's sitting room were extinguished by the closed door, leaving the two to walk together in an awkward fashion.

Though Beau was comfortable with the silence, it seemed to him that the marquess had something to say, so he cleared his throat, catching her attention, "We're alone now, Marquess. If there is something you need to tell me, this is a good time."

Olicia stared up at the imposing man, his hardened features looking softer as the light streamed through the windows. She felt like she could trust him, but she faltered when she thought about who she could trust, and what it would mean if she did say something. Once she tells him what she heard about the plot against the fiancee candidates, she would not be able to take it back. If she made a mistake, and he said something to the wrong person, they would find her dead, bloated body in the river at dawn. These thoughts made her shiver. Still, as she looked over at Beau, who looked forward with a determined, unwavering expression, she felt oddly reassured.

"I-" Olicia stopped walking, taking in a shaky breath, "I do. But first, I need you to promise me something." Beau stopped too, staring at Olicia patiently, waiting for her to continue. She sighed, releasing tension she did not realize she was holding in her shoulders, "You can not tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Promise me, as a knight, that you will not tell anyone. If you do anything, it has to be in absolute secret. Lives are at risk."

Beau looked closely at Olicia, taking in her reaction as he thought about what she said. Though he usually did not waste time with such frivolous things, he felt the situation was not a usual one, "I promise. Tell me." His voice was sincere, full of interest in what the marquess had to say.

As Olicia twisted her hands together, squeezing her fingers until they hurt, she told Beau everything she had seen and heard last night. Though his face remained cool, his body tensed as she mentioned how one of the candidates would be murdered, and how one of the fellow candidates was involved. By the time Olicia finished, the corners of her eyes were moist with tears that she tried to hold back. Beau closed his eyes and nodded thoughtfully, contemplating everything Olicia told him, considering how to continue forward. Finally, Beau opened his eyes, ready to chastise her for not alerting a guard immediately, but as he stared down at Olicia, who was looking down, her hands twisted in front of her, he sighed and put his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Thank you for telling me this. I'm," Beau paused, trying to think of the right things to say. He suddenly felt awkward, unsure of how to comfort someone, "I'm sure it wasn't easy to come forward with this. I'll do everything in my power to protect you, so please don't worry." Beau forced himself to smile, hoping that was at least a little reassuring. Though his words did not do much to reassure Olicia, his awkward, stiff smile caused Olicia to laugh.

"Thank you." Olicia said, trying to take deep breaths so she would stop laughing, "I feel much better after telling someone about this. I felt terrible when Marquis Cyneric was forced to get involved in this situation, but I feel better now. Thank you."

Beau nodded, feeling relieved that she was reassured, "Let me guide you back to your room now."

"Of course." Olicia said with an energetic nod, feeling revived at the sight of hope, "But please tell me if I can help you at all!"

"I will, Marquess." Beau said with a nod, contemplating everything he had heard. Not only did he have to now deal with a planned assassination attempt at the upcoming hunt, he could not get the fact that the elf he had previously had in his custody almost died. Beau felt his stomach sink at the thought of the elven man dying, but he was unsure what the feeling meant. He tried to push it away as he continued forward, but he could not shake the horrible feeling.

I will deal with this situation quickly, then maybe I can find out what happened to that elf. Hopefully that will stop this sinking feeling in my gut.

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Please send all credit to Hunny for this chapter ♥ I only edited and added a few snippets ;; I should be writing more on next chapter, but I'm currently processing documents and hunting down students at work to get documents in (y'all, check your emails please D: ). I have deadlines I have to meet, so I've been busy :C

It was a breath of fresh air to focus on Beau for a bit, as I was missing him. He's a good egg, and I like to see him worried about Silas too. Though Clare, my insane nutbar son.... He's really going down the rabbit hole. His obsession with Silas will continue to change and shape as we continue.

I will be working on the Christmas special soon here as well. I have an idea in mind, but if you guys want to suggest something, hmu darlings ♥ ;D Thanks always for reading, and I hope you continue to enjoy YMtK >y< See you all next week~! (And don't forget to check out the collaborative YMtK playlist on spotify! - link on my scribblehub https://www.scribblehub.com/profile/35600/catmasseuse/)