TYND 13

Chapter 13

Every time they talked, Lucy often felt as though she and Walter were the same species yet communicating in entirely different languages.

Was it because geniuses thought differently?

Even though she hadn’t spent much time with him—only a few encounters—he always said things so out of context that she ended up bewildered.

Just like now. She had no idea why or how her being involved in refugee brokering could be something he liked. And if that was somehow the reason she should become a king, she understood even less.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said.

“You left the human kingdom and are now helping the Lycanthropes in the city of Rafi,” Walter replied gently, before adding a sharp comment that branded her.

“That’s what drew me to you.”

She understood even less.

Was he impressed by how she helped another race?

He had always been the kind of person who treated others without discrimination—so perhaps it could be that simple. But she felt there was more to it than that.

Lucy pouted her lips before letting out a soft sigh to organize her thoughts. In the end, ordinary people could not understand geniuses. She didn’t know what he meant, but if he liked her, perhaps that was enough.

Fine. So be it.

She had long since resolved to become king anyway. No matter how many years she tried to let time dilute her desire for revenge, the burning hatred to kill that Crown Prince bastard never died out—it flickered inside her like embers, burning her even now.

If she was destined to die anyway, then at the very least, she wanted to kick him in the face once before she did.

There was no reason to refuse a meal already set on the table.

It was a sword she intended to take up eventually. And now that Walter had stepped forward first and offered to make her king, she would gladly entrust herself to those wings.

“If you wish to present me as king, you’ll have to go through quite a lot of trouble, Commander.”

“As long as Your Highness is prepared, I will be fine.”

“Are you sure you won’t regret it?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

Behind the two sitting side by side, a long shadow stretched. Lucy gazed at the rising sun, drained her now-cold tea in one gulp, and exhaled lightly.

“Well then, why not? Let’s give it a try.”

Walter gave the faintest nod in response.

The warm sunlight pushed away the chill from the air, and a gentle breeze drifted by. A faint scent of burning wood hinted that the shepherds had lit a fire to boil tea.

Though they were discussing matters of great importance, both Lucy and Walter relaxed in the quiet, realizing their interests aligned. To an outsider, it might look like an absurdly sudden compromise.

Walter watched the flock of sheep with a calm face before breaking the silence with a deflated sigh.

“I know it was a sudden proposal, so you may have been startled… but please don’t worry. It’s embarrassing to say this myself, but I consider myself a fairly capable soldier.”

Lucy glanced at him in confusion. Walter averted his gaze slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“I have always trained with loyalty in mind, never imagining the object of that loyalty would disappear so abruptly. Perhaps… coming to Your Highness so quickly stems from a subconscious desire to find a replacement.”

Rubbing his lower lip with his thumb, he continued quietly.

“Still, I hope you don’t dismiss my loyalty as a passing impulse. I have seen the qualities of a wise ruler in you. To prove that belief, I will devote my life to serving you.”

Lucy rose from her seat. She set her teacup down, folded her arms for a moment as if thinking, then walked toward him and looked down at him.

After observing him closely, as though inspecting something, she broke into a boyish grin. Then she slowly reached out a hand toward him.

“I don’t know the details, but all right. Don’t ever forget what you just said—and protect me well. For now, you’re the only one I can trust.”

“…Your Highness.”

“And I will strive to become the ruler you hope for. I look forward to working with you, Walter.”

Sunlight ushering in a new morning shone brightly over her outstretched hand.

* * *

Parnas was the region with the most varied climate among the three kingdoms.

Dofein, in the south, was always hot and dry, while Antevasila—stretching long from north to south along the eastern coast—showed extreme climate differences depending on the region.

But Parnas alone experienced distinct four seasons throughout its entire territory. Its northwest, in particular, was famous for its beautiful scenery in autumn, when the entire world seemed dyed in brilliant foliage.

Admiring the colorful feast of leaves, Duke Kill exhaled and lifted his gaze slightly. Beyond the carriage window, the deep blue sky signaled autumn’s arrival.

“Your Grace, you seem rather down today,” the attendant seated across from him said with a puzzled expression.

Kill crossed his arms, a faint smile on his lips.

“I’m worried about today’s meeting. My sleep was restless last night. I have a bad feeling.”

“You worry too much. There’s no one more suited for the throne than you. I don’t think you need to be concerned…”

About a month had passed since the last council meeting.

The lords were still busy sharpening their hostility toward one another, and the Grand General—who had opposed electing a new king—was too occupied running between the north and west to offer any new proposals.

Even those watching the situation said they could no longer endure a kingless kingdom.

Rumors that the palace had become a disaster zone were spreading through the capital, and the two neighboring nations, previously held in check, were now planning to send envoys under the pretext of wishing the king’s recovery, seeking to confirm the truth of those rumors.

There could be no further delay.

A new king had to be chosen.

Among the lords, only three truly qualified contenders existed: Duke Kill—the senior elder among elders; Marquess Rutherford, the core of the rising faction; and Duke Wheaton, who maintained deep ties with the royal family.

Of course, the most prominent successor was unquestionably Duke Kill.

With his wide insight, bold decisiveness, and swift execution, he had led countless reforms. Not only had he brought prosperity to his duchy, but he also revived the declining capital by opening new trade routes.

Unlike other nobles who only clung to defending their own territory, Kill had devoted his life to Parnas as a whole. If not him, who else could be king?

Thus, the attendant fully expected his master to ascend easily to the throne.

But Kill silently shook his head.

“We still haven’t learned the Grand General’s intentions. If he refuses to yield and continues to be stubborn, even I may struggle.”

“Is the General’s opinion important now? Even if he disagreed, he’s too busy to interfere with domestic affairs.”

“Hm. The borders have indeed been unstable lately.”

The attendant nodded with a lighter expression.

“Dofein and Antevasila are at the brink of war. If conflict breaks out, it will affect Parnas too—but it will also distract the General. For now, he’ll be too occupied guarding the border.”

“…Yes. That’s true.”

“And even if something does happen, the General will handle it. He is an undefeated commander, after all.”

Kill thought of Walter and smiled ambiguously.

“Indeed. It may be best to wait until he stabilizes the capital as well. Announcing a new era name while praising his achievements would look respectable enough.”

Just as the attendant said, perhaps war would actually help at this moment.

People loved to watch fires from afar—if Dofein and Antevasila declared full-scale war, the citizens’ attention would shift from the capital’s chaos to the conflict between neighboring nations.

Even without that, tensions among the three kingdoms meant the Grand General could not make any reckless moves.

The king’s sudden death had been shocking and tragic at the time—yet looking back now, it might have been a stroke of fortune, a timely chance for generational change.

“Whatever happens, it won’t be bad. Yes… not bad at all.”

Kill muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead.

It was a plausible plan—examining it from every angle revealed no significant obstacles. Yet something pushed up from the corner of his mind, a creeping anxiety that chilled the back of his neck.