The three were leisurely chatting when a soldier sped his horse toward them to speak, “Milord, Generals, our Farseer reports the city gates are closing.”
“Understood, Soldier. Back to formation.” Colleen’s tone was full of boredom.
As soon as the soldier was away, Carl turned to Marcel, anxiety etched in his face, “Do you think they will create problems, perhaps try to stall until the King arrives?”
“It wouldn’t matter. The King is not coming. I made sure of that.”
But then Marcel looked back at the army and smirked, "Besides, the stinky dog Licarus would never engage in battle without the King’s orders.”
“But what about the old dragon hag and Lady Androny?” Colleen’s tone was lazy, as the whole political drama bored her imnsely.
“The dragon can be an issue; she is known for being temperantal, and she is a Semi-Perfect Existence. But I ca prepared for that as well.” Marcel showed them a bottle with a liquid so dark and dense that not even the northern pale sunlight seed to seep into it.
“Draconic Suppression poison? Where did you get that?” Carl’s brows rose in astonishnt at the sight of such a rare poison.
“It cost a few hundred slaves in good condition, but I knew it could co in handy one day.” Marcel bragged with a broad smile.
Colleen looked at the bottle as if she had found water in a desert.
“If push cos to shove, let be the one who kills the scaly bitch.” Colleen’s voice was thick with bloodlust as she flashed them a murderous grin with a glint of madness in her eyes.
“Sure, but let's hope it doesn’t co to that. I prefer to brand the Duchess with a slave mark instead. Having a dragon as my pet would definitely increase my standing with our… friendly neighbors, haha!”
Marcel reveled in his good humor, utterly unconcerned by the loss of his sons.
He had other sons, but he thanked Nhiria that it hadn't been Sandra.
She was his most capable child, his chosen successor, though she didn’t know it yet.
By the ti they reached the gates, every farr, hunter, and soldier was already inside the city.
All the family heads and influential figures in Eversnow stood atop the wall, except for Miralyn and Alain, who stayed in the Dracnakrid estate to guard Sokram.
Carl rode closer, and his eyes found Licarus standing beside Hannah.
His voice ca thundering as he projected it with his spirit essence, “By order of His Majesty the King, we ca with the Royal Advisor, Marcel nid Steelheart, to judge the case of murder against the heirs of the Steelheart family. Open the gates or face the consequences!”
Hannah was about to curse at him, but Licarus raised his hand for her to wait.
Then he replied, also projecting his voice, “I spoke with the King earlier today, and His Majesty said he would personally co to judge the matter. I was never inford that you would be coming instead.”
Licarus’s gaze shifted to Count Steelheart, not concealing the hatred and disgust he held for the traitor.
“Besides, according to Norwinter’s law, no one in a position of conflict of interest can judge a matter related to them. So Count Steelheart, you are only losing your ti. Eversnow gates remain shut until the King arrives.”
“Tsk! They are acting high and mighty because they have three exalted and the dragon among them.”
Gazing at Marcel, Colleen, eager for a fight, barked, “Just give the order. My n are hungry for a good fight!”
Marcel shook his head and waved at soone who was riding hidden among the army.
A fat, bald, and short man in regal attire arrived beside him, and they rode together until they were side by side with Carl.
Marcel smiled at Licarus from afar with a calm and composed deanor.
“You seem to have misunderstood sothing, City Lord Licarus. I’m here only as a father who lost his sons to a cruel murderer. This here…” he pointed at the fat man beside him, “Is the Royal legislator and legal advisor of His Majesty, Count Bluevines. He will be the one judging.”
Carl smirked at Marcel’s cunningness and shouted, “You heard the Count. There is no conflict of interest. Besides, as a City Lord, you have no authority to refuse a high-station noble’s orders in tis of legal issues between the nobility.”
Licarus only smirked when he heard that, “Oh, I know. But what is a re Count in front of a Grand Duchess? Isn’t her station a lot higher than the Counts? So, whose orders do you think I’ll follow?”
Right after Licarus finished speaking, Hannah shouted, “The gates stay closed until the King's arrival. That is my order!”
“Then you leave us no way out. This matter is too serious and can’t be delayed.” Carl looked back at the soldiers, and with a battle-hungry grin, he barked his orders, “n! Prepare to take the gates down. Kill anyone who gets in your way.”
But at that exact mont, an unknown man stood at the edge of the wall, and his voice ca thundering down, startling everyone around.
A voice they all recognized and feared: “Under whose authority are you ordering MY soldiers to kill MY people? Are you tired of living, General? I could even consider this an act of treason.”
The man who shouted dropped his hooded robes, revealing his regal appearance.
He stood at 1.85 ters tall, lean, and muscled like a blade honed by war.
His rosy ivory skin glowed faintly in the pale northern light, and his raven-black hair whipped behind him in the wind. But it was his eyes, deep blue, sharp, and unyielding, that sent a hush through the crowd.
Dressed in official attire, his family mantle draped over his shoulders.
The mantle was red, and the sigil on it was a golden snowflake inside a Crown.
The man’s na was Lucien di Norwinter vid Greyfur id Goldenmane.
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The man on the wall was the King of Norwinter.
“Shall I wear my Crown before you kneel to your King, Generals?”
Lucien’s tone was heavy with authority and echoed unwaveringly.
Beside him stood four won, their exhaustion clear for all to see.
Grand Magus Sienna and her three daughters: Cecille, Celia, and Camile. Who, since the King had inford Licarus that the Count was coming with the army, had been tirelessly working to reactivate an almost ancient and secret teleportation formation that was connected to the Royal Palace.
And they succeeded in doing so just as the city closed its gates.
The King, wanting to see what the Count had prepared this ti and who would support him, chose to remain hidden.
But once he heard the General giving the order for the soldiers to kill his people, he lost his cool completely.
The two Generals hurriedly jumped from their horses and knelt with their heads low, not daring to speak a single word.
The legislator’s face drained of color; his body shook in fear, and his mount, sensing his fear, beca agitated, sending him face-first into the snow with a wet thud.
Count Steelheart didn’t blink.
His grip on the reins tightened, knuckles white, eyes darting to the fallen legislator and the kneeling generals.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
He wanted to contact the two Dukes who were supposed to be creating a ruckus in the Royal Palace to keep the King there, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance now.
Hannah, Sayuri, and Licarus let out relieved sighs.
Lucien’s gaze flickered to Hannah and Licarus, a silent apology. “I’ll explain my delay later, Grand Duchess, Uncle.”
Licarus smiled brightly in a way he rarely did and knelt before the King, “The important thing is that you’re here, Your Highness.”
“Well, open the gates then. We have a trial to hold.” Lucien ordered with a smile, while everyone on the wall was either bowing or kneeling before him, except for Hannah.
The family heads, military officials, and citizens watching from within the city were astounded.
They had never seen the King walking so freely among the common folk, without a single guard.
Lucien only felt this level of freedom in Eversnow, where he was born and raised.
Half an hour later, Hannah and Sayuri were standing beside Sokram as he was escorted by a platoon of soldiers of the Royal Army toward the City Lord’s Palace.
Behind him, the rest of his family, but different from what was expected, he wasn’t being escorted like a criminal; instead, he was being escorted like a grand noble and guarded like a very important witness.
The people in the streets watched as he and his family passed.
Curiosity filled their gazes.
Murmurs of gossip spread among the people.
So looked at Sokram, feeling vindicated after knowing he had killed the two Steelheart brothers.
Others gazed at him with sympathy, hoping the King would judge him innocent, as they all believed he was.
And a few less inford wondered what all the uproar in the city was about lately and how the city’s young prodigy was involved.
Arriving at the palace, Karini and Leona were waiting for him and his family.
They led him to the Royal Audience Hall.
A special room that every city’s main palace had, which could only be opened for the King’s usage.
Upon entering, Sokram saw a grand hall, structured like a theater, with a slightly elevated proscenium at the far end that carried only a majestic throne.
The throne was crafted with plated adamantium, mithril, and crimson cushions.
The walls of the hall were perfectly blended white smooth stucco and poplar steel-bark wood, with well-carved ornants of silver and gold.
The well-spaced Magi-Lights provided the room with enough lighting despite the lack of windows, and the floor was fully covered in burgundy carpeting.
The faint scent of polished steel-bark wood and aged parchnt lingered in the air, a reminder that this hall was ant for monts that shaped history.
The audience seats were also made of poplar steel-bark wood and covered with burgundy leather cushions.
Every influential figure in the city now packed the audience seats, their murmurs hushed as Sokram entered.
Following Leona’s lead, Sokram and his family were led to the frontmost seats right before the throne, where Lucien was already seated.
Arriving before the King, most of his family knelt and bowed, with only Hilda, Brunhild, Sokram, and Hannah saluting the King while standing.
Seeing that, the Generals saw an opportunity to regain so favor with the King, Colleen promptly barked, faking her rage, “You dare not kneel before the King?!”
Yet the people around looked at her as if she were stupid.
It was the King who spoke in their defense, “General, do you see a Crown on my head? Don’t you know that dragons and their descendants only kneel before the Crown? Do I have to educate you on the traditions of the people in the North? Why do you speak like a foreigner?!”
“Your Highness, I apologize, but those two won are clearly human! How can they not kneel before you, Your Highness?” Colleen tried to argue, speaking in a humble and subservient tone while bowing to the King.
Lucien sighed and summoned an elegant, well-crafted Crown made of Ebanium, encrusted with many diamonds.
Around the Crown’s base, an enigmatic and ancient enchanted scripture was causing the ambient mana to swirl around it.
The King only placed the Crown over his lap, and they still did not kneel. The mont Lucien’s Crown settled upon his head, a palpable weight descended upon the hall, an ancient, undeniable pressure that seed to press the very air from their lungs.
The four with dragon blood, previously standing tall, bowed as one, their knees striking the burgundy carpet with a soft thud.
Their heads bowed so low their chins ca to a palm from the floor.
Their eyes did not dare et the Crown, out of deep reverence.
Then, while bowing in that position, each of them summoned their weapons and extended them toward the Crown, offering them to the King.
A collective gasp rippled through the audience, their eyes wide open as they witnessed the rare sight of dragons lowering themselves.
A scene of ancient and primal reverence.
A clear display of the principles engraved in every dragon’s heart since Agorath was raised as Paragon, the day that was decreed among the dragon kind that no other dragon in their galaxy wears a Crown except for Nhiria.
“See? Not only do they kneel, they even offer their power.”
Looking at them and the rest of his family, Lucien said, “You may rise.” While the rest of his family did stand up, the four with dragon blood in their veins would not, so long as the Crown remained on the King's head.
Lucien then took the Crown from his head and stored it back in his spatial ring, and even without him saying anything, they stood up.
Looking at Sokram, Lucien smiled and nodded at Sokram approvingly, “You’re the young genius that my dear uncle keeps bragging about so boisterously, hm? We haven’t t yet, so introductions are necessary…” Lucien stood up and saluted Sokram, knocking his fist over his heart, “I am Lucien di Norwinter vid Greyfur id Goldenmane.”
Sokram saluted back, answering promptly, “I’m Sokram di Dracony vid Dracnakrid, Your Highness.”
“Sokram, nice na, I’m sure your Great-Grandfather would approve of it. But can you do a favor, Sokram? Can you educate this General on why dragons never kneel or bow to anyone but the Crown?”
“Your Highness, we dragons bow before no man, and never lower our heads before anyone besides our mothers. You know that no Dragon King wears a Crown because he would never force another dragon to kneel and bow, just as he never would.”
Lucien nodded, grimacing with a mocking expression of thoughtfulness. “And yet, you knelt before just now. Why is that?”
“The weight of the Crown, Your Highness. We dragons bow to no other, but the responsibility of caring for an entire nation or empire is worthy of such respect and reverence. The Crown symbolizes that duty. No honorable dragon will dishonor those who took upon themselves this burden.”
“So, you would never bow before if I’m not wearing my Crown? Even if I order you?” Lucien’s voice reverberated like thunder in the hall, silencing all with pure authority.
His tone was as domineering as the Crown's own power.
His question ca close to sounding nacing and scolding.
Yet, Sokram’s answer ca sharp and honest, “No, never, Your Highness!” His voice was fearless, without an ounce of hesitation.
Lucien’s brows raised, surprised by how brave the young dragon sounded standing before him.
He then glanced at Hannah and nodded with a broad smile, “You educated him in the way of the dragons quite well, Grand Duchess.”
“He is my pride and joy, Your Honor,” Hannah grinned broadly as she also answered without any fear or hesitation.
Lucien’s gaze shifted back to Colleen, “Do you understand now, General? Our great nation is composed of people of many different races, each with its own cultural values. How would you feel if I told you to kneel facing the floor with both your knees on the ground, as reverently as they did?”
“I… I understand now, Your Highness. Thank you for educating .” Colleen’s face was flushed with embarrassnt while her heartbeat spiked with a mix of relief and fear.
“Good. You may rise and go back to your husband's side.” Colleen stood up, and after bowing one last ti, she walked back to stand beside Carl, who was standing behind the throne like a common bodyguard.
Lucien turned back to the crowd and ordered, “Be seated.”
Then his gaze shifted to Sokram, and before Sokram could sit, he beckoned him to approach, “You, Sokram, approach the throne.”
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