Conditions 2

'What…? No way I'm doing that, old man!'

Stiles felt frustrated by George's condition to become the rightful owner of the throne.

'Gaining the trust of Kynburgh higher-ups won't be an issue, but getting married… hell no!!!'

Stiles could not describe his revolt against the idea with only an exclamation mark, so he tripled it.

"You plan on using me to breed descendants?" Stiles questioned, forming a hypothesis in mind.

George could not help but smile at the boy's words. He found how Stiles could see through his scheme hilarious.

"Believe me or not, getting married to Eve would be one of the best choices you'd ever make in life."

Goerge was confident in his plans and knew that his daughter, Eve, had the corresponding characteristics of a queen—after all, why would he choose her and not his other feminine offspring?

'I don't care about your thoughts on the matter…!'

"Can't we negotiate the terms?" Stiles inquired, suppressing his voice.

'My instinct tells me that Kynburgh would be a great asset to my research… I can't let it go.'

Stiles trusted in his instinct—even though he felt they were forces manipulating the situation from behind the scenes, he still deemed his intuition a valuable asset to achieve the impossible.

"Sorry, lad. It is unnegotiable. I made sure to address that fact while setting things up—for this day."

'I can't falter in my steps, now. I'll have to come out victorious…: George thought solemnly, feeling bad about Stiles' situation.

He was not completely a shrewd man and knew to offer sympathy and understanding where and when needed.

"What's the third condition?"

'Are you accepting without a fight…?' George stared at Stiles, warily. 'Or you have seen the truth of the matter?—how futile it is to elude fate.'

George was disturbed by Stiles's sudden change of heart. At least, he felt Stiles would have argued more about the marriage condition.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you confused, old man? I'm asking you about the next condition!" Stiles uttered in exasperation, showcasing his contempt for the man's unprecedented question.

'Heh heh, now you are worried that I may have cooked up some evil scheme, won't blame you though…'

Stiles caressed his imaginary cheek, appearing as an evil old man with a dark-brown beard in the picture.

'Don't fret and spill out your conditions!'

"Coronation—There must be a coronation ceremony," George's frail voice resounded in the room.

Stiles now had a summary of the situation—he had to first of all prove that he was worthy of the throne; this was to ensure he would not lead Kynburgh to its doom.

Secondly, he had to get married to the King's descendant. This could somehow ensure George's bloodline continues and provide a sense of security to his family. After all, he would become their relative.

Thirdly, he had to undergo a coronation ceremony to calm the hearts of the citizens. This would assure them that things are heading in the right direction.

'A smart move, indeed. With these things in place, Kynburgh would surely be a better place…' Stiles thought in an analytic mode.

"I hope you understand now, I don't mean any harm to you."

George raised his quivering frail arm as a sign of peace. Stiles could tell it took much difficulty on his part to achieve that task.

"That doesn't change the fact that I've been used to attaining your goals." Stiles hissed, unwavering to George's words.

The frail king could only sigh at Stiles' unperturbed attitude to his plight. 'I can't blame him, I would act the same way in his shoes…'

"Anyway, I don't have a choice. I need Kynburgh, so I'll accept your conditions." Stiles said, pausing for a second before continuing. "Though I'm curious, how did you place the conditions?"

Since George talked of Stiles being unable to claim the throne without these conditions, he decided to confirm how the frail King achieved that goal.

George sighed dejectedly, his eyes becoming unfocused. "Since we have come to an agreement and I'm at the end of my life, I'll tell you."

"As I said earlier, Kynburgh grants it kings—or rather in my case, Kynburgh granted me access to powers unlike I've ever witnessed in my good-for-nothing existence.

One of them was to create certain restrictions on the selection or election of its next ruler.

Though I'm limited to these kinds of restrictions. Like now, I could only create restrictions related to the betterment of Kynburgh and the first ruler's bloodline."

'This rhymes with my deduction on why he created those conditions… how cunning are they—both fortress and man…'

Stiles nodded to George's words, internally praising them for their cunningness in dealing with the matter.

Now he had to lead Kynburgh to glory and also continue the bloodline. Though he could avoid the bloodline continuation by not getting intimate with the princess, he still found it hilarious to abandon a lonely girl, after all, he had no issue with the "first ruler's" bloodline.

"Must I accomplish the task in order as you stated, or complete it according to my will?"

Stiles concluded that George had already listed all the conditions as he inquired about other necessary factors to note.

Goerge tilted his head to the left as if in deep thought, his eyes zooming in and out in a whirl of two seconds.

"I don't know, I've never dealt with a situation like this."

'That is feasible. Unlike me, the others don't need the spiritual consent of Kynburgh. Though they might suffer from bad luck or some ailment.'

"I'll advise you to complete it in the order I stated them," George added, giving Stiles his take on the situation.

Stiles adjusted his coat slightly, moving in the direction of George. "How long do you have to live?"

At that instance, George's pupils lost focus, almost going blank. His hand fidgeted lightly on the edge of the wheelchair, giving him the look of an anxious male.

"I don't know, I already feel dead inside."

George commented with a wholesome laugh that cracked at some point.

"My soul is likely holding on to pass this information."

Stiles could feel Goerge hesitation to die despite his confident words.

'Death? It's a wondrous and fascinating concept, something that I fear, despite believing I have no will to live…'

"It's time you leave, lad. I wish you a safe journey."

At that moment, Stiles recalled things he wished to ask about, but it was too late as he felt that familiar energy approach his body—the same one that brought him to this place.

"I know you are strong, but be careful, death is not the only scary concept in life—there are many more you dare not seek, lad.

The journey is long, but it will always follow the path of fate. Remember, control is 'likely' the key…

The emphasis the king of Kynburgh, George Louis Albert, laid on 'likely' was so clear that it resounded in Stiles' ear a hundred times over.

'Thanks for the advice…' Stiles tried to say out loud but had his voice suppressed by the surrounding force field.

Stiles now had an idea of his supposed path—though it still felt foggy, he knew his duty was to clear it up.

'Control is the key, huh… how intriguing…'

With a devilish smile on his face, Stiles got swallowed up by the force, leaving the king to his once again quiet room.

'Seems my time has come, Kynburgh. I would watch over your progress from the sky, among the stars of the night sky…'

George's body disintegrated slowly, his unperturbed smile displaying brightly till his last being was incinerated to the heavens.