A few days had passed, and the rhythm of my life remained unchanged—breakfast, tutors, and playful diversions. Then, without warning, the Prime Minister arrived, casting an unwelcome shadow over the routine.
I cringed inwardly at his uninvited presence. His thoughts radiated malevolence, sparking fears of potential harm to me or, worse yet, the prospect of losing Ginny. However, I observed a peculiar aspect—he blatantly ignored Ginny, as though she were an invisible presence. With little time to decipher his motives, I resigned myself to playing the role of the compliant heir.
"You look even more handsome as you grow, Your Majesty," he said, accompanied by a smile that sent shivers down my spine. I wished he would stop scrutinizing me; I could discern his desire to escape the palace, and truth be told, I shared the sentiment.
"Hehehe, of course I am!" I responded smugly. The irritation flickering in his eyes pleased me, a small victory against the veil of his fake smile. Without the ability to 'see' his emotions, I might have fallen prey to the act.
"Your Majesty, I am here to escort you to a funeral," he announced. Funeral? Why were Ginny and the maids wearing such odd expressions in the background?
"What's a funeral?" I asked, my curiosity tinged with confusion.
His gaze sharpened, the creepy smile still intact. "A death anniversary for your father's other wife."
What? My father had another wife? And she had died? I knew nothing about her. As I stood there in silent bewilderment, the Prime Minister instructed the maids to assist me in changing into funeral attire, leaving him waiting outside.
Emerging from my room in somber funeral attire, I traversed the palace corridors toward the awaiting Prime Minister. But before I could reach him, Ginny intercepted me, her voice laden with concern. "Please, Your Majesty, never make a decision without careful consideration. Believe in yourself, and whatever choice you make in the days ahead, know this..." Her warm smile, brimming with kindness, accompanied her heartfelt words, "I'll always be there for you."
Her farewell, marked by a gentle wave, stirred an unsettling premonition within me. A nagging sensation persisted, as if this could be the last time I would see her. No! I resolved to protect her at all costs. Ginny wasn't merely a caretaker; she was a mother to me. The woman who claimed to be my mother, the so-called old hag, never approached me with genuine intentions. She couldn't possibly be my mother. Regardless, I vowed to confront her upon my return.
As I approached the Prime Minister, that ominous feeling lingered. Ginny's words echoed in my mind, offering both solace and foreboding. She had become my anchor, a source of genuine warmth in the cold currents of palace intrigue.
The Prime Minister led me towards the funeral procession, but my thoughts remained entangled with the promise Ginny had made. Determination surged within me; I wouldn't let anything threaten the one person who had shown me unwavering kindness. The complexities of royal lineage and political machinations faded momentarily, overshadowed by an innate need to shield Ginny from any impending storm.
Taking a deep breath, I urged myself to calm down. Focus on where this old man is leading me; trust no one close to him. Resolute, I entered the horse-drawn wagon.
The interior was surprisingly comfortable, imbued with a palpable sense of magic. It resonated with an enchantment, evident in the subtle hum of mystical energies. A closer look revealed a sophisticated magical sealing barrier encompassing the carriage. A pang of frustration hit me—no magic for me to wield. However, my unique ability to 'see' the flow of mana allowed me to discern the intricate web of the seal.
The remainder of the journey unfolded uneventfully, punctuated only by greetings from other aristocrats. Their hollow congratulations clashed with the true sentiments I could discern beneath their polished facades. I couldn't help but label them as two-faced, their insincerity a stark contrast to the innocence of a four-year-old's critique.
As for the wagon, it was a marvel of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate carvings and plush upholstery. The exterior shimmered with an ethereal glow, indicative of its magical enhancements. The seal, a delicate lattice of arcane symbols, danced around the edges, preventing any magical interference. Though my own magical prowess lay dormant, my ability to navigate the currents of mana allowed me to perceive the barriers that sought to confine me.
Upon reaching the somber site of the funeral, my discomfort intensified. Notably absent were the old 'grandfather' and the so-called old hag—my mother. A gnawing unease settled in. Why would they forsake attending such a significant event? They wouldn't have willingly left me alone with the Prime Minister. The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
"Your Majesty, did your mother tell you the story of what happened to your father's other wives?" The Prime Minister inquired, his excitement betraying a malicious intent that set me on edge.
"No," I replied, oblivious to the hidden agenda behind his inquiry.
"How can she keep you in the dark, Your Majesty? Nevertheless, I'll enlighten you. Your father had two more wives, and one of them, Norn Von Dracon, passed away today due to mistreatment by your mother," he divulged, his face a turbulent mix of anger and concern.
His revelation unfolded like a macabre tale. Following my father's demise, my mother had imprisoned and tormented both of his other wives for the past four years. The shock deepened as he dropped another bombshell.
"Also, Your Majesty, did you know you have an older half-brother?" he continued, each word laden with the gravity of his disclosure.
"I have an older brother?" I exclaimed, grappling with the implications. Why then was I the emperor and not him?
"Yes, Your Majesty, but his mother was a servant. Upon the announcement of His Highness Johannes's death, he and the servant were killed by your mother," he revealed, his words casting a grim shadow over the newfound revelation.
The pieces began to align, revealing a grotesque puzzle of familial betrayal and power struggles. The realization hit me—this was why my grandfather and mother (Old Hag) had chosen to remain absent. Unaware of the sinister undercurrents, they did not fathom that this Prime Minister had "escorted" me to attend my, ah, stepmother's funeral. The intricacies of imperial dynamics unraveled before me, exposing a web of deceit, cruelty, and secrets that had shaped my existence.
His objective was clear—to sow seeds of doubt about both my mother and grandfather. In that, he succeeded; my resentment towards them deepened. Yet, my disdain for him remained unchanged. Regardless, I won't linger in this puppetry. Once I attain Magic Stage 2 for my white mana core, I'll break free from these confines.
__ __ __ __
Upon returning to the palace, Young Arthur was met with a shock.
"Where's Ginny?" he urgently inquired.
"I'm sorry, but I have no idea where she went," replied a maid.
Panic gripped Arthur as he dashed to his room. Collapsing onto his bed, he wept, fearing the worst. The night's echoes, filled with crickets and magic birds, provided no solace.
Eventually, he succumbed to sleep, the absence of any comforting presence leaving him to face his despair alone.
Upon awakening, Arthur found a maid by his side. Recognizing her from Ginny's company the day before, he decided to inquire.
"Hey," he greeted in a cold voice, his dignified stare capable of sending shivers down anyone's spine. The maid, overwhelmed by his presence, merely nodded.
"Tell me where Ginny is," Arthur demanded in an authoritarian tone.
The maid stammered, "Lady Ginny said that... Your Majesty would ask thi—"
"Tell me where she is, and don't make me say that again," he interrupted, his tone growing colder.
"She told me to inform you to go to the place you like the most!" the maid hastily explained.
In moments, realization dawned on Arthur, and he sprinted past the shocked maid towards the Imperial Gardens. It was the place where he usually sought refuge—an immense tree at the far edge of the garden, the very spot where Ginny had opened his eyes to the wonders of magic.
Upon reaching the familiar hiding spot, Arthur noticed a magical letter placed there, emanating overflowing mana. Ginny, understanding his penchant for this place, had chosen it as the location to reveal her message. Arthur picked up the magical letter, feeling the resonance of mana pulsating within it, and began to read its contents.