Cellebration

A few days later, in the capital, the mood of the people had improved upon hearing that both Regensburg in the north and Fritsburg in the south were successfully pushing back the enemy. Though food was still scarce, the citizens managed a modest celebration.

"It's about time! Hahahah."

"I heard they ran away like rats! Hahaha."

The streets were alive with conversation, houses filled with the sounds of drinking and eating as everyone discussed the recent victories.

"Yeah, I bet those scum kicked down their own people just to escape from our army."

No one knew exactly who had started spreading the news, but within half an hour, the entire capital was abuzz. Rumors began swirling, exaggerating the enemy's defeat: how they cried as they fled, how they betrayed one another to save themselves.

Most of it was fabrication, spurred on by the excitement of finally hearing some good news after weeks of despair.

Amid the rumors, a specific story was intentionally being circulated—not a rumor, but a reminder to many.

"I heard Prince Threo is helping the people again. Maybe he really does care about the kingdom," said one man to a small gathering of neighbors celebrating together.

"Well, if he keeps this up, I might believe it. He sent food to my family a few days ago when we had nothing."

"Same here. And he paid a friend of mine to fix the holes in my roof. Now we won't freeze this winter."

"Yeah, I hope he becomes king."

"Just these small things he's done lately are more than the king has done for us in his whole life."

"True," the others nodded.

"I pray he doesn't forget us if he becomes king, like his father did."

"Is he the next in line for the throne?"

"I don't know. I've never even seen a royal up close."

"I have a friend who's a guard at the palace. He said the king has several sons and daughters, and Prince Threo is second in line."

"So, there's an older brother. But who is he?"

"How can someone we've never heard of become our ruler?" That thought lingered, taking root in their minds.

Inside the castle, a grand party was in full swing. The nobles and influential people of the capital gathered to celebrate what the royal family declared to be the beginning of the counteroffensive.

The sheer amount of food on display would make a commoner faint, wondering if they were truly living through hard times. Long tables groaned under the weight of dishes, and the guests were indulging freely. The king and his family sat elevated above the rest, looking down on the spectacle.

While conversation buzzed through the hall, the center of attention was a young man seated near the royal family.

"Prince Threo, I'm honored to meet you. My name is Icarus Hildebrand, son of Count Cuthred Hildebrand from the north." A well-dressed young man approached, his attire matching the finery of the royals, and he was about the same age as Threo.

So, he's the one, Threo thought, eyeing him. "Good to meet you, Icarus. I'm sure you're pleased with the recent news, aren't you?"

"But of course! This war is just a temporary inconvenience for us. I'm confident we'll recover our lands, and we won't stop there—no, no, we'll take the fight straight to their doorstep!" Icarus said, brimming with confidence.

"And it'll be all thanks to our brave soldiers and the new crossbow. When I first heard of it, I couldn't believe it! A weapon that even a child could use to kill a soldier—it's revolutionary!" Icarus continued, his voice filled with admiration.

Why is he speaking to Threo and not to me? Prince Pepin, sitting just a few meters away, strained to catch their conversation. His brow furrowed slightly as he observed.

"Are you interested in taking a few crossbows back to the north to test?" Threo offered smoothly.

"I surely am. Thank you for your generosity. In time, I'll negotiate a shipment for our soldiers."

"Prince Threo," Icarus pressed on without hesitation, "I have a personal request to make."

Threo nodded, both he and Pepin curious. "Go ahead."

"I'm getting married next week, and I would be honored if you could attend to bless our union."

Why invite me instead of Pepin? Is he betting on me to become king instead of my brother? If he's wrong, he could destroy his future standing with the crown, Threo thought, feeling the tension in the air.

Pepin clenched his fists under the table, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. You piece of shit. When I'm king, I'll strip you of everything you have!

"Are you all right?" The queen asked Pepin, noticing his demeanor and the intense conversation happening between Icarus and Threo.

"Excuse me. I need some air." Pepin rose abruptly, walking past his brother and Icarus without a glance. He exited the room, leaving a trail of tension in his wake.

Icarus is showing his cards, Threo mused, but it's a dangerous gamble.

"It would be my pleasure to attend your wedding, but I may be unable due to certain responsibilities. Who is the lucky bride?" Threo asked, his voice steady.

"Her name is Ella, daughter of Baron Frederic. She is first in line to succeed her family, just like I am."

Before the conversation could continue, commotion erupted at the head of the room. A clergyman was assisting the king, who was coughing violently, his face pale and drenched in sweat. The queen followed closely behind, her expression full of worry.

Threo stood quickly, calming the room with assurances that the king was merely tired. But inside, he knew it was more than that.

Everyone in the hall knew the king's health had been declining. Some whispered that he should abdicate the throne and let his successor take over.

The party limped on for a little while longer, but without the presence of the royal family, the mood soured, and soon guests began to leave.

During the remainder of the night, Threo mingled with the remaining nobles, staying on good terms and even managing to secure deals involving his new inventions.

Everything is going according to plan. The crown jewel of it all is our forces pushing the enemy back, he thought, though he lacked the expression "icing on the cake."

"Prince Threo, the queen requests your presence immediately," a servant interrupted.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's...the king, your father. He's not well," she replied, her voice trembling.

Threo wasted no time. "Call the others and clean up this mess," he ordered, before heading swiftly down the corridors. When he reached his father's chambers, he was greeted by guards standing solemnly outside the doors.

Inside, his family gathered around the large bed. The king lay there, pale and sweating profusely, occasionally coughing up blood.

"...Father..." Threo whispered.

"He doesn't have much time," the queen said through her tears. "He...he's been..." She struggled to finish her sentence.

"He's been poisoned," Pepin interrupted, his voice cold and clear.

"What?!" Threo exclaimed, shock evident on his face.

Pepin's gaze locked on him. "Did you notice anything unusual? Anything that might point to the culprit?"

"No... nothing suspicious. Father, don't give up!" Threo implored, gripping his father's hand.

"Why? Why would someone do this?" Pepin murmured, pacing slowly around the bed. Their two younger sisters, one barely ten years old, wept quietly in the background.

Pepin's gaze sharpened as he stopped. "Was it you, Anna?" he asked his elder sister.

"Wh-what? Are you mad?!" Anna stammered, her face paling. She was two years younger than Threo, while their youngest sister clung to her hand.

Pepin ignored her denial, his eyes now settling on Threo. "Was it you?"

"Are you insane?!" Threo snapped, the accusation igniting his fury. "What kind of accusation is that?"

"You were sitting right next to him," Pepin pressed. "And you think I don't know what you're planning?"

"Stop this!" their mother, Alice, commanded with a strong yet quiet voice. "Your father needs peace right now. If you can't stay calm, leave."

The tension between the brothers hung thick in the air before Threo finally stepped back, turned, and stormed out of the room.