Again, Everyone Wants Me Dead

The change took place immediately; right away I felt a greater respect for the man standing next to me—no, the king, definitely. I was afraid to even look in his direction for fear of being misconstrued. I stopped doubting myself; with such an aura, he could easily wield power, and with such charisma, though I couldn't yet see how it worked, I felt he possessed it; even I would have followed him blindly. Now, I knew I had to be especially careful. Those already close to the king wouldn't appreciate the sudden appearance of someone new and strange in his circle. I was betting I could be perceived as a threat, and even Michael's sympathy might not protect me from those who wanted to protect him.

The carriage stopped in front of us, and a boy appeared out of nowhere and opened the door for his ruler. He looked at me uncertainly, wondering whether to rush me or let me in as well. I, too, wasn't sure what I could afford. Then the king poked his head out and reassured the boy.

"He's my special guest, don't worry, Stevie. Let him come in." He smiled. The boy looked at me again, then glanced at Michael's shoulder and reluctantly allowed me to enter. I admitted the boy had frightened me. As I climbed in and found myself dangerously close to the king, he whispered a warning in my ear. "Don't say anything on the way. We'll talk later."

These things I'd pondered earlier seemed to always be right on target with my fears. Perhaps besides the language, I'd also acquired the ability to subconsciously understand this world. In any case, I wanted to talk, but instead I focused on looking out the window and admiring the scenery. Occasionally, I glanced at the other passenger, who had wandered away from me in favor of his own deep thoughts.

The closer we got to the capital, the denser and more imposing the buildings became, and everyone seemed busier. However, people often stopped at the sight of the carriage, waiting, hoping to catch a glimpse of their young king outside some predetermined schedule. Women and girls immediately straightened up, adjusted their hair, trying to show off their charms. I wondered if Michael was even interested in romance. Could he have chosen anyone, or was political marriage his only option? The dream of higher status clearly represented some more universal truth.

I felt as if I had simply found myself in a city similar to one I'd already visited, only on a larger scale and more condensed in terms of the amount of everything per square meter. Even when we were on the outskirts, I noticed a multitude of tents in the field in front of the walls and pointed at them.

"Is this…"

"Yes, the preparations are going according to plan." The king smiled proudly, a hint of excitement and impatience lurking there, making me shudder.

All the while, somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered what was happening with Renet. But I didn't know if I was ready to see him again. I was afraid I might hear things I didn't want to hear. And above all, although I believed in the sincerity of every word and gesture, they would prove to be mere illusions. My heart wasn't ready for such a dose of pain, but I worried, only consoling myself with the fact that Michael didn't seem eager to take Renet's life; at least, he hadn't made it a priority. I wasn't even angry or forgiving anymore, not yet at that moment, though I had no need to hold a grudge for long.

We finally drove through the gate of the wall surrounding the enormous palace where the young king resided. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor; the building was beautiful and surrounded by a well-kept and colorful garden. Renaissance style, I guess, if anything stuck with me from school. Three floors, a tower, exterior decorations—everything fit together perfectly. I didn't think I was worthy of even setting foot on the threshold of this place.

Entering the building was like visiting a museum. Out of habit, I wanted to take off my shoes, but no one else did, and I felt terrible about it, but I tiptoed, fearing I didn't belong here. Or at least, that I had no right to be there. An older man, a butler, greeted us at the door. He bowed to his king and awaited further orders. Meanwhile, he glanced at me and observed me, ready to intervene if I was up to something. He didn't like my crutches, and even more so the wound on Michael's arm, who looked at me apologetically.

"Gregory, this is my special guest. Take care of him." The butler raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn't say anything. "Serve us dinner in two hours, and in the meantime, send a doctor to me."

"As you wish."

Michael, ignoring us, went to his room. We watched him for a long time before Gregory gestured to me that we should go the other way.

"Is the wound His Highness has serious, Mr.…" He waited for my answer.

"Kyo."

"An unusual name, then, Mr. Kyo…"

"It's just a scratch," I blurted out, almost admitting it was my fault under his watchful, soul-searching gaze.

I pursed my lips and decided not to speak again. We passed corridor after corridor, decorated with paintings and sculptures, gleaming with cleanliness. Even if I wanted to remember the way, I wouldn't have a chance. And perhaps Gregory was deliberately leading me this way to prevent me from doing so. He finally stopped at a door and opened it for me.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I don't think so," I said, unable to get used to the respect he addressed me with, though I sensed he didn't feel the same way about me personally.

"I'll send someone from the staff to be nearby and then escort you to dinner with His Highness."

"Thank you."

I was certain Gregory possessed some strange ability that was making me so uncomfortable. I just wanted to lock myself in the room that had captivated me. There, I barely refrained from throwing myself onto the enormous bed but decided it wouldn't do, especially since I was so dirty. I felt like I was on vacation in an expensive hotel on the other side of the world, something I'd saved up for years. I was even more thrilled when I found a bathroom behind the door.

A bit later, I'd almost fallen asleep in the bathtub when I heard a soft knock. Before I could even climb out, and for some reason I hadn't closed the bathroom door, I almost fell over in front of another servant. And another round of disappointed, disgusted looks.

"I've brought you clean clothes. They're on the bed," the man announced sternly, and headed for the exit. "I'll come get you when it's time for dinner."