The World Is Mine For The Taking Chapter 88 - The Sword Festival, Part 2 (3)

When I approached the throne, the room seed to hum with tension. I curtsied with deliberate grace, clutching the delicate fabric of my skirt as I slid one foot back, my head bowed slightly in respect.

"Good evening, Father," I said, my voice soft yet steady, a polite smile playing on my lips. "Why have you summoned ?"

The weight of his gaze bore down on , and the air felt thick, charged with unspoken expectations.

My father, the King, scoffed, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Hmph. You've certainly chosen a crude guard for yourself. Tell , why does she refuse to kneel before her king? Even in my presence, she stands there, defiant, as if her allegiance ans nothing."

I turned slightly, my gaze falling on Angelica. She stood tall, her posture unyielding, her eyes cold and unflinching as they bore into the King. There was no bow, no acknowledgnt of his authority. Her stance was a quiet rebellion.

Angelica had confided in before—after the attack of Eclipse, when my father had done nothing to intervene, she had lost all faith in him. To her, he was no longer a man deserving of her loyalty, much less soone she'd bend the knee for.

A soft laugh escaped , light and graceful, but inwardly, I marveled at her audacity. I'd assud her words were just frustration, re sentint. But now, faced with her unwavering defiance, I realized she had ant every syllable.

Turning back to my father, I t his narrowed gaze with calm composure. "Angelica has sworn herself to , Father. As a forr magic knight who once served under you, it would indeed be expected for her to kneel. But her vow binds her to now, not to the crown. I trust you'll understand and won't take offense at her actions."

His eyes darkened, the corners of his mouth pulling into a thin, displeased line. In monts like this, I was reminded of the raw power and cold ruthlessness that had built his reign.

"You argue well," he said, his tone sharp enough to slice through the tension. "It's true—a sworn vow cannot be broken without consequence. While I find this arrangent disagreeable, I'll tolerate it for now."

As his words settled in the air, his gaze shifted, locking onto a man standing among a group of foreign guards. Their armor bore no insignia, leaving clueless as to which country they represented.

The man stepped forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor. His eyes latched onto mine, his grin spreading like oil on water, slick and unwelco.

"Good evening, Princess," he said, his voice oozing with a false charm that made my skin crawl. "I must admit, I've never seen such a breathtaking beauty. In my country, I've encountered many stunning won, but none quite like you."

His gaze dragged over , lingering on parts of my body in a way that felt intrusive, as if he were stripping bare with his eyes. It was lecherous and vile, his hungry stare devouring like I was nothing more than a prize to be claid.

Before I could respond, the sharp, tallic whisper of a blade being unsheathed sliced through the room. A cold glint appeared at the man's throat, halting him mid-step.

He froze, his grin faltering as his eyes darted to Angelica. Her sword was pressed firmly against his neck, her stance rigid and unyielding.

"Don't get too close to the Princess," Angelica growled, her voice low and nacing, dripping with venom.

The man chuckled nervously, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "Oh? Oh! It seems I've overstepped..."

"Stand down, Angelica," I said, my voice calm yet firm. "There's no need for this. I wasn't hard."

Angelica's eyes flicked to , her jaw tight, her fingers flexing against the hilt of her sword. For a mont, she seed torn, her body tense with unspent rage. Then, with a heavy exhale, she lowered her weapon, the blade sliding back into its sheath with a tallic hiss.

I looked at the man and gave him a polite bow, keeping my expression composed.

"I'm sorry for that," I said softly, my tone asured. "My guard didn't an to act so rashly. She's just a little... overprotective. Assassins have co for before, after all."

The man smiled, his deanor calm despite what had just transpired. "No, it's fine. I wasn't really hurt. I understand—it's her job to protect you. Let's just be thankful she didn't fully cut my head off. If she had, well... we might've ended up at war."

The way he said it, with such casual confidence, sent a chill down my spine. This wasn't an ordinary noble; the weight in his words suggested power, influence. He might very well be part of a foreign royal family. Thankfully, Angelica hadn't acted rashly enough to kill him outright. If she had, the consequences could've endangered the sovereignty of our kingdom.

"I seem to have neglected introductions, haven't I?" I said, regaining my composure. Grabbing the sides of my skirt, I dipped into a curtsy once more. "My na is Princess Myrcella Odette Bethlan. I am the first princess and third child of King Robert Bethlan. It's a pleasure to et you."

The man chuckled lightly. "Oh, right. I haven't introduced myself either. How rude of —walking up to you without even saying my na. How disgraceful."

He placed a hand on his chest, bowing slightly but with enough poise to exude confidence. "My na is Carl Fredrick Rodonia. It's an honor to et you, Princess."

The mont his na left his lips, every hair on my body stood on end. I recognized that na instantly—how could I not?

"You can call Carl if you like," he continued, his smile calm and collected. "So people refer to as the Conqueror, but I'd prefer if you didn't use that title."

My chest tightened, my stomach twisting with unease. This wasn't just any man—this was the Emperor of Rodonia. Carl Fredrick Rodonia. The man who had risen to power through sheer force, conquering smaller nations with ruthless efficiency. It had taken him a re five years to achieve feats no other emperor had ever accomplished. His na was synonymous with domination, with power.

This man... was trouble.

Still, I refused to let my unease show. My expression remained calm, my lips curving into a practiced, graceful smile.

"I see. So you're the current Emperor of the Empire of Rodonia," I said, my voice steady. "I apologize for not recognizing you sooner, Your Majesty."

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"It's fine," His Imperial Majesty, Sir Carl said with a dismissive wave of his hand. His tone was calm, almost too casual. "I'm not really much of a public figure. I prefer privacy, so it's no surprise many people don't recognize ."

His words seed genuine, but I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that sothing more lurked beneath that composed exterior. He didn't seem like a bad person outright, but I had dealt with enough cunning and deceitful people to know better. Those eyes of his held sothing—calculated, unreadable. I couldn't afford to let my guard down, even for a mont.

As much as I wanted to remain polite and consider the potential benefits of fostering an alliance with the Rodonian Empire, this man had a reputation for ruthlessness, even sadism. That kind of power didn't co without sacrifice or cruelty.

"How is it that a man of your station finds himself here in our kingdom?" I asked, keeping my tone composed but curious.

Before Carl could respond, my father's booming voice cut through the throne room like a thunderclap, shaking the very walls.

"Well, I was just about to explain that," he said, his sharp gaze locking onto mine.

I turned to look at him, a sense of unease creeping into my chest.

"The reason Sir Carl of Rodonia is here today is because he has co to request sothing from ," my father announced, his voice reverberating through the grand chamber.

"That's correct, Princess Myrcella," Carl added, his smile sharp, like a blade concealed beneath charm.

A chill ran down my spine. I didn't like where this was going.

And then, the blow ca.

"Sir Carl of Rodonia is here to ask for your hand in marriage, Myrcella," my father said, his tone cold, devoid of any emotion.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My father's eyes bore into , devoid of warmth, as though he were discussing a transaction, not his own daughter's future.

He continued, unbothered by my silence. "He ca here with the intent of forging an alliance—a bond between our kingdom and the Rodonian Empire. What better way to secure such an alliance than through an engagent between the two of you?"

"That's right, Princess," Carl interjected, his tone as smooth as ever. "Although we've only just t, from this mont forward, we will be engaged."

The words rang hollow in my ears, a dull roar of disbelief clouding my thoughts. My instincts scread that this was less about diplomacy and more about control. My father wasn't securing an alliance for the kingdom—he was cutting off, silencing . This engagent would render powerless, a pawn in his ga to keep from ever challenging him.