After the chaotic moments passed, everyone returned to their respective places.

The noise and clamor seemed to dissolve into nothingness, leaving behind an eerie silence that settled over the space like a thin veil of frost.

With even the guards and attendants dismissed, the king found himself alone for the first time in a long while.

In that quiet chamber, he was reacquainted with an unfamiliar yet poignant sensation—solitude.

“...”

For someone like the king, who bore both the title of monarch and hero, loneliness was an alien concept.

His life was a continuous cycle of love and adoration from his people.

He could count the moments he had felt truly isolated on one hand: the beginning of his journey, and its end.

Even then, the latter was mitigated by the spoils of his adventures—treasures collected along the way, including the companionship of people.

“Hmm...”

People.

Perhaps referring to them as spoils was a cold and dehumanizing thought. Yet, to a hero who valued friendship and love as treasures, the concept was not so far removed. For him,

everything earned during his adventures was like the stars in the sky, each one representing a cherished memory or bond.

Thus, his sky was always filled with countless stars, their radiance reminding him of the joy and thrill of life. Yet yesterday, a new hero, Alpheus  had stepped forward and laid claim to one of those stars.

“All I ever wanted was just one thing...”

The words were bold, filled with the brash determination of youth. The king had replayed them in his mind over and over, each repetition reigniting a fire within him. It was a feeling he had not experienced in a long time.

Was it anger? Perhaps. But the king chose not to label it as such. For a hero, anger was a weapon wielded only against evil, and Alpheus was no enemy—he was the savior of his daughter, the princess.

No, this was something else. Something the king had never felt before.

“Alpheus... Alpheus... Alpheus...”

…

“Alpheus... Alpheus...”

Caught in the whirlpool of this new emotion, the king found himself repeating Alpheus’s name, a habit of his when faced with an enigma.

He hoped that by uttering it enough, clarity might come to him.

Would it work this time? He didn’t know.

Perhaps it was merely a way to kill time in the emptiness of the audience chamber.

“Alpheus... Alpheus... my friend...”

…

“So you ask me... to give up what I have...”

For the first time, a personal thought escaped his lips. He paused, his gaze unfocused, staring into the void. Then, without warning, he began to laugh.

“Heh...”

…

“Haha... hahaha...”

…

“HAHAHAHA!”

The laughter, which began as a faint chuckle, swelled into something wild and almost manic.

As the sound echoed through the chamber, the king rose from his throne and reached behind it.

What he retrieved was an old sword, his weapon from his days as a hero—a relic of a bygone era.

Drawing it from its sheath, he expected to see the gleaming blade that had once symbolized his glory.

Instead, he was met with rust and decay.

“Aha... how fitting...”

Yet the king’s laughter did not falter. If anything, it grew louder, loud enough to be heard by the attendants outside.

Some of the more timid maids couldn’t suppress their fear, their stifled sobs barely audible over the king’s cackling.

When the laughter abruptly ceased, a sharp cracking sound echoed from within the chamber, followed by the king’s voice muttering something incomprehensible.

Meanwhile, in the corridor, the princess gripped Alpheus’s wrist tightly, her steps brisk and silent. The maids who tried to offer her an early supper received only curt nods of refusal.

Her grip on Alpheus’s wrist was so firm that it cut off circulation. He had no choice but to speak.

“Princess.”

“Let’s go to my chambers. I don’t want to see anyone right now.”

“There are many people who have requested to meet with me today.”

“Don’t go. Their conversations will bore you anyway.”

The princess’s tone was commanding, as if her words alone could dictate reality. Alpheus could have resisted, but he knew her mind was consumed by the events of earlier.

Still, he couldn’t shake his own thoughts, particularly Mirian’s parting words.

“If you truly desire me, dance for me. A dance that plunges the kingdom into chaos.”

Her message was as direct as it was unsettling. Unlike her previous games of subtle manipulation, this was a declaration—a demand cloaked in an invitation.

“Princess, this cannot continue.”

“Excuse me?”

Alpheus gently but firmly pulled his hand free. The princess’s expression turned forlorn, her eyes pleading.

“Alpheus…”

“As I mentioned, there are too many people waiting for me today. Ignoring them would be unbecoming of me.”

“Who are these people? Tell me, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Count Brey. Viscount Hernan. Baron Philia. And…”

“And the queen?”

The princess cut him off coldly. She grabbed his hand again, her voice rising with frustration.

“Did she whisper to you? Did she ask you to meet her tonight?”

“No, Princess.”

“Then what did she say? No, I don’t even want to know. It’s obvious.”

“Princess.”

“She tried to seduce you, didn’t she? That’s what witches do—deceive and manipulate!”

Her voice carried through the corridor, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

Alpheus lowered his tone.

“Your voice is too loud, Princess.”

“I don’t care. Everyone already knows!”

“Even if that were true, it’s not something you should say aloud.”

“I…!”

The princess stopped herself, something catching in her throat. Then, turning to a passing maid, she issued an abrupt command.

“Bring me a bottle of wine. Now.”

“Wine? But—”

“Now. Please.”

Startled, the maid scurried off, returning moments later with a bottle.

The princess wasted no time, uncorking it and drinking deeply before Alpheus could stop her.

“Princess!”

“Ah…!”

He managed to wrest the bottle away, but not before she had downed half its contents.

Her inexperience with alcohol showed immediately, her cheeks flushing as her body swayed.

“Why won’t you listen to me, Alpheus? That witch is a liar. I’m the only one who truly loves you.”