The silence of the room felt suffocating as I stood there, the weight of my new responsibilities settling into my bones. I could no longer afford to be a child, to let the future play out in front of me without intervening. But the rules were clear. No telling anyone what I knew, no influencing the path directly.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and let my eyes drift over the room. I wasn't just a prince anymore—I was the one who had to prevent the collapse of this kingdom, the one who had to navigate the treacherous waters of politics and power. My fate, and the fate of those around me, lay in my hands.
First things first, I told myself. I need information. The slaves had been the catalyst for this disaster in the making, but I needed to understand their motivations, their grievances. I couldn't just send someone else to deal with it. If I were to prevent the revolt, I needed to see things from their perspective.
I left my chambers, the cool air of the palace corridors brushing against my skin. I'd grown used to the luxurious life, but today the opulence felt hollow, a mask covering the rot beneath. The kingdom wasn't as strong as it seemed, and I had to make sure I didn't get swallowed by the same corruption that would bring it down.
As I passed through the halls, servants hurried past me, their heads bowed in deference. The palace was alive with movement, but I felt detached, as though I was observing it all from the outside. I had to remind myself that I still had a part to play here, no matter how much I felt out of place.
Reaching the servant quarters, I hesitated. How would I approach them? The slaves, though not truly slaves in the eyes of the kingdom's nobles, were still lower in status. They worked tirelessly, and many of them had been born into their roles. How would I, a prince, gain their trust without revealing what I knew? Without the truth being too apparent in my actions or words?
I knew that the first step was to meet them on their level, to show I wasn't just another prince who lived in a palace of gold and forgot about those who toiled in the shadows.
I found the servant quarters where many of the household's staff rested during their breaks. The air inside was thick with the scent of cooking and the hum of conversation, but it fell silent when I entered. All eyes turned toward me, and for a moment, I felt the weight of their gaze like a thousand knives. They knew who I was, but they didn't know what I was here for.
One of the older women, her face lined with years of hard work, stepped forward cautiously. "Your Highness," she said, her voice a mix of respect and caution. "What brings you to our quarters?"
I forced myself to appear calm, to not let the nervousness betray me. "I wanted to speak with you," I said, keeping my tone steady. "I have... questions about the conditions here. About how things are for you and the others."
There was a murmur among the gathered servants, and I could feel the distrust. They didn't know me, didn't know whether my appearance meant anything good or bad. But this was my chance to learn, to gain some insight into their grievances.
One of the younger men, a tall figure with dark eyes and a scar across his cheek, stepped forward. "What's this about, Your Highness?" he asked, his voice carrying an edge that made it clear he wasn't easily fooled. "Are you just here to check up on us, or is there something more?"
I met his gaze, trying to remain steady. "I know things aren't easy here," I said. "I just want to understand. To see if there's anything I can do to help. To make things better for everyone."
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. I could feel the weight of their skepticism, but I didn't let it show. This was my chance to connect with them, even if only for a moment.
Another woman, younger and with fire in her eyes, spoke up. "You want to make things better?" she asked, her voice hard. "Start by speaking to the one who rules this kingdom. Start by telling them the truth about what's happening to us."
Her words hit me like a slap, and for a moment, I struggled to find my voice. The truth. I couldn't tell them the full truth. I couldn't even hint at it, but I knew that something had to change.
"I can't promise to change everything overnight," I said slowly. "But I can try. I can listen. And I can make sure your voices are heard."
The tension in the room didn't dissipate, but I could see something shift in their eyes. Hope, is tentative and fragile, but there nonetheless.
"We'll see what you do with it, Your Highness," the young man said, his tone skeptical but less hostile.
I nodded, understanding that my words alone weren't enough. I would have to show them, through my actions, that I was sincere. And that meant finding ways to make the changes they so desperately needed, without revealing the full extent of the future.
As I left the servant quarters, I couldn't shake the weight of what I'd learned. The slaves, though oppressed and ignored, were not without their fire. Their hatred for the kingdom was not just born of circumstance, but of years of neglect and suffering. If I were to stop the revolt, I had to do more than just speak to them. I needed to change the system that had allowed this resentment to fester.
But I couldn't do it alone.
I needed allies—people who could help me navigate the dangerous waters of court politics, people who could help me make the changes necessary to prevent the kingdom from falling apart.
I needed to gain control of my family's internal conflicts, first and foremost. I couldn't risk being distracted by petty squabbles when everything was on the brink of disaster.
As I walked back through the halls, I ran through my options in my mind. I have to be careful, I reminded myself. Every move must be deliberate. Every word must be calculated. If I was to succeed, I couldn't afford to make a single mistake.
And most importantly, I couldn't let anyone find out what I knew.
As the youngest prince, 13th Prince Hota, I had always been treated differently. There was a certain dismissive air around me, a subtle acknowledgment that I was the least of their concerns. I was too young to be a threat, too insignificant to matter in the grand schemes of power. Yet, that very underestimation would become my greatest asset. I knew that in the grand court of the Ah'Orora Kingdom, being underestimated meant I could move unnoticed, unseen by the eyes that were trained to watch the older, more ambitious princes.
But now, the stakes were different. I wasn't just a child in the royal family. I was a soul reborn with knowledge of the future, armed with the system's traits and a mission to prevent the kingdom's fall.
The warmth from my mother's embrace still lingered as I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the fine silk of my robes. The 13th prince, the overlooked one. My reflection stared back at me, an unremarkable child with dark brown eyes and messy black hair. On the surface, I looked every bit the spoiled, unthreatening prince. But the truth was, my mind was sharpened with knowledge and strategy, and I was no longer just a child. I had to make my move.
I walked out of the room, my bare feet padding softly against the stone floors. The palace was vast, and even though my family was close-knit in its own way, there was always an undercurrent of competition, of rivalry. The 13th prince, the youngest son of the queen, was a pawn in that competition, easily ignored or dismissed. But that would change.
I reached the garden, a sprawling space filled with rare flowers and the scent of jasmine that floated lazily in the warm air. My feet took me to a small bench nestled beneath an old olive tree, its gnarled branches spreading wide, providing shade from the midday sun. The perfect spot to think.
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the gentle breeze cool my face, and considered my next steps. Taru, my half-brother, would be the first domino to fall in the chain of events leading to the destruction of our kingdom. His anger had festered for years, and I now understood why. His mother, a slave taken by the emperor as a bedmaid, had been discarded when she no longer pleased him. Taru had lived through the cruelty of a system that failed him, and it had hardened his heart. I couldn't change his past, but perhaps—perhaps I could prevent the revolt.
But to do that, I had to gain the trust of the slaves. I needed to know their grievances, their fears, their pain. They were the fuel for the fire that would soon engulf the kingdom. If I could quell that fire before it started, I might stand a chance of averting the disaster ahead.
I reached out, lightly touching the silver pendant around my neck. The Goddess Tear was still with me, its faint glow reassuring. This artifact had been placed by the original soul's mother to heal him, but now it was my tool, my safeguard. It purified my body, strengthened my constitution, and made me resistant to minor poisons and illnesses. That would help as I navigated the dangerous waters ahead. But I knew it wasn't enough. I needed more than just physical strength—I needed power in the political arena.
The mission ahead required a careful balance. I had to maneuver between family loyalties, rivalries, and the slaves' impending revolt—all while never revealing what I knew. I had to outsmart everyone.
As I sat on the bench, I mulled over the choices available to me. I was 12 years old, yet I held the wisdom of someone who had lived many lifetimes. The system's recommendations were clear, but I had to make sure I didn't waste them. I needed every advantage I could get.
The system beeped again, the familiar voice humming in my ear.
[Mission Update]
[Side Mission: Help Calm the Slaves Before They Revolt.]
[Current Task: Gain the trust of at least three key figures within the slave population.]
[Mission Difficulty: B]
Gaining the trust of the slaves was no easy feat. Their lives had been shaped by suffering, by the cruelty of the royal family and the power structure that kept them bound. But it was essential. If I couldn't prevent the revolt, then the rest of the kingdom's fate would be sealed.
I stood, my mind already working on a plan. I needed a contact—someone within the palace who could help me gain access to the slaves. But who? The guards were loyal to the emperor, and the maids and servants were loyal to their respective masters. The only people who might have information, who might be in a position to help, were those who had ties to the slaves, even indirectly.
I thought of Kara, a maid who often worked near the kitchens and had a reputation for speaking in hushed tones with the servants. She might know something. I needed to find her.
But the bigger issue was the internal conflict within the family. The rivalry between the princes was something that simmered just beneath the surface. My older brothers, particularly the 8th prince, Pota, would be a problem. He was the crown prince's right hand, and while he seemed loyal to the emperor, I knew better. Pota's attraction to both men and women made him unpredictable, and his ambition to take the throne was no secret.
I needed to play my cards carefully, use every advantage I had, and make sure I wasn't caught in the web of court politics.
I walked through the palace halls, my mind already planning my next move. As the 13th prince, I had been ignored, underestimated. But now, it was time to prove that I wasn't the insignificant child they all thought I was. I would shape the future of this kingdom, even if I had to do it quietly, from the shadows.
The first step was to find Kara. The second—to begin changing the course of fate without anyone realizing it.
The countdown to the kingdom's destruction had already begun. But I still had time.
And time was something I would use to my advantage.