In the following days, another rumor spread: the king was dead. No one knew who started it, but soon it was all anyone could talk about. Some people wept openly, while others felt a deep sense of dread for the future. So many tragedies had befallen them; what more could be waiting?
That afternoon, the queen made a public appearance, confirming the rumor that shocked the entire city. She announced seven days of mourning before the new king would be declared. Icarus, naturally, postponed his marriage.
The news spread quickly to the remaining free cities—the ones that hadn't been captured yet.
"To tell you the truth, it was about time we got a new king. I never liked Robert," Maxis said to Rafael as they strolled through his palace, heading for the backyard.
"Why do you say that? Do you know something the general public doesn't?"
"Ahahaha, boy, I know a lot more than the peasants can even dream of. When you've got this much influence and money, there's almost nothing you can't do, have, or know."
Rafael pondered Maxis's words as they approached a wooden cabin behind the mansion.
Inside, two servants were waiting by a metallic object that stood between them.
"This is the distiller built from your drawings and explanations," one of them said.
In the middle of the cabin stood a copper distiller. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't small either—about one meter tall and 30 centimeters wide, cylindrical in shape.
"Good, good. It must've cost you a lot," Rafael said, knowing how valuable any type of metal was in these medieval times. He had read about producing steel from pig iron; it seemed easy enough in books, but he knew the reality was much harder. I'll try to produce cast iron soon, and if that works, then I'll think about the Bessemer process.
Metal tools had revolutionized the way people lived, doing a much better job than rocks or bare hands. Even iron tools were far superior to those made of copper or brass, but there were significant obstacles to producing large quantities of iron, let alone steel. One major problem was the extremely high melting point of iron, making it impractical for most people to even attempt.
Rafael had learned from his book how to lower the melting point, and though he already had the materials he needed, he chose not to share this knowledge just yet. I have plans for the future.
"It's an investment," Maxis said confidently. "I trust that, in the end, it will bring me profit. And if it doesn't, at least I can sell the metal back to the metalworkers."
"Don't worry, Maxis. You have my word—if this works, soon you'll be ordering bigger ones and hiring people to work full-time on this."
"Ohoho, I like the sound of that. So tell me, what exactly can we do with it?"
"With this, we can purify and concentrate liquids. Do you have any beer for a test?"
At Rafael's instruction, a servant poured some beer into the distiller. They placed a large bowl of water on top and lit a fire beneath the cylinder. Before long, drops of liquid began to trickle from the tube into a small cup.
"You see that?" Rafael pointed to the cup containing a light brown liquid. "Let me explain. That beer has alcohol in it, and the alcohol is boiling off before the rest of the beer. What you're seeing here is... more alcohol than beer."
Maxis stared blankly. "...What?"
Rafael blinked, baffled. How does he not get this?
"What is this 'alcohol' you speak of?"
Holy shit... Rafael thought.
"Never mind that," Rafael said quickly. "All you need to know is that we can concentrate and purify alcohol. It has many uses—trust me. After all the beer is boiled off, you take this, distill it again, and eventually, you'll end up with pure alcohol—a colorless liquid. Oh, and you can use wine instead of beer too." He gave Maxis a few examples of its uses, piquing the man's interest.
Alcohol can be used in cooking, to make new drinks, and even to heal people. This is priceless! Maxis's eyes lit up as he ordered the servants to continue distilling the beer. He wanted to experiment with it as soon as they had enough.
"These ideas are incredible, Rafael. Every single one of them—whether it's the buttons, the underwear, or the socks—they're all so useful and important."
"I can't believe you're a wanted man. I'm sure if the royals knew that you alone were behind all this, they'd take you in, hire you, maybe even reward you with a title and lands."
Damn, that would be nice... I'm tired of running and hiding. I hope someday I can be a free man again.
"Who's next in line to be king?" Rafael asked, steering the conversation.
"Robert's eldest son, Prince Pepin," Maxis replied.
Rafael coughed to hide a laugh. Oh my God, what the hell kind of name is that?
"You alright?" Maxis asked, eyeing him.
"I'm fine, it's nothing. Do you know much about this prince? What's his personality like?"
"I know a bit," Maxis said thoughtfully. "He'll probably follow in his father's footsteps. But I hope the second in line steps up—his name is Threo."
"Any reason why?"
"I think our kingdom is too passive, too sluggish. King Robert was likely warned about enemy troop movements by his scouts, but it was too late by the time he acted. Maybe it was his old age, maybe not."
"He cared only for himself—his parties and his gold—while his kingdom starved and got conquered." Maxis's tone grew grave, his voice tinged with anger.
Wow, Rafael thought. If I'm right, Threo is the one who helped Ella, Avice, and the others in the capital. Avice is probably already close to him. If Threo becomes king, our family could benefit greatly.
"Is there any chance Threo could be crowned instead?" Rafael asked.
"There's always a way for everything," Maxis said cryptically, "and something is already in motion. But I must say, what's happening now is quite different from what I had planned. To be blunt, I would have done something... more extreme." They exchanged a few more words before Maxis excused himself, leaving Rafael deep in thought.
The kingdom is pushing back the enemy, and a new king will soon be chosen. From what I've gathered, Threo will be more proactive in reclaiming his lands. The crossbow will help a lot, but there's much more to be done. This is the perfect opportunity!
Later that evening, Rafael retired to his room, grabbing a parchment to sketch two new inventions: the trebuchet and the bearing. He made detailed drawings and wrote explanations on how and where they could be used.
He skipped his training to finish the letter and, with Maxis's help, sent the parchment along with a bearing to the capital by a scout.
That night, Rafael washed himself with a towel and water, ate a meal with Ella, and brushed his teeth. Ella had started following his advice on hygiene—brushing her teeth, washing her hands with soap, and other things. She couldn't stop praising the panties and bra he had given her.
As the temperature dropped, nearing freezing, Rafael quickly snuggled under the blanket with her.
"Damn, it's cold! This place could really use some global warming... haha, just kidding."
Ella giggled. "You say funny things sometimes that don't make any sense."
"Wait, only sometimes?" They laughed together.
"I'm happy to be here with you," Ella said.
"Marrying you changed my life. Really." Rafael said to her.
"No," Ella replied softly, "you're the one who changed my life. If it weren't for you, I'd be forced to marry someone I'd never met."
"My life would be miserable. I've come to see how Icarus acts—he's selfish and manipulative, willing to do anything to get what he wants. If I had married him... I think I would've ended my suffering."
"Don't say that. You're here with me now, and I'll protect you from anything and anyone. I promise." Rafael caressed her face gently, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Her eyes reflected happiness—until they filled with sadness, and tears began to fall.
Whenever Ella was with Rafael, she felt safe enough to let her guard down, but that also meant her mind would wander back to the terrible things she had been through. The stress of the past few weeks always brought her to tears. Rafael held her close.
"Everything will be alright. Don't worry, Ella. I'm here," he whispered. He understood her pain—she had lost everything. He too had lost everything when the time machine broke.
Occasionally, Rafael had flashes of the people he had killed. Only recently had the nightmares stopped long enough for him to get some rest.