He had just boarded the carriage when the commander approached, handing him a box.
"This is what you asked for, Your Majesty."
Elias thanked him and took the box. Inside lay a scroll—a prophecy. He drew a deep breath, unrolled it, and carefully read the words:
The prince shall grow amidst abundance and affection.
Like his forefathers, he shall wear the crown of the empire.
But if he wishes to rule with strength, he must choose his empress wisely.
The fate of Neyora rests in the hands of this couple.
If he chooses well, Neyora shall rise to its peak.
If he errs, the nation shall burn in fire.
The first time Elias had seen this prophecy, he had been unsettled—someone else seemed more important than him. It spoke of nothing but the empress's role. Thus, they focused on the most likely candidate: a clever woman from a powerful family. In the end, Anna was chosen.
"If he errs, the nation shall burn in fire."
The choice had been wrong. And now Elias knew exactly who must remain by his side.
After the ceremony, the plan was to tour the city. The crowd that had gathered was so vast it slowed the carriage's progress. With the roof removed, the interior was filled with bouquets hurled joyfully by the people.
Elias smiled throughout, waving to the cheering masses.
A teenage boy shouted, desperate to catch his attention:
"Your Highness! Your Highness!"
Elias searched for the voice. The boy's face seemed familiar. He had forced his way through the throng and now stood directly before the carriage. Elias studied him more closely—and froze as recognition struck.
"What is your name?" he asked.
The boy wore a worn brown shirt, its color faded from countless washes, its collar torn. His hazel eyes shone brightly amid the dirt on his face. With excitement he replied:
"Claude, sire. I'm Claude."
Elias held his breath. Claude—the prodigy who, at sixteen, would become the strongest knight of Neyora
Claude declared passionately:
"Sire, I want to be the strongest knight in the land, so I can protect you!"
A vision of Claude's severed head flashed before Elias's eyes. He forced himself to believe:
No… that will not happen.
He unfastened one of the golden cuff buttons and placed it in Claude's hand.
"Keep this. When you pass the entrance exam, show it to the soldiers. They'll bring you straight to me."
The crowd was pushing Claude back, but he clutched the button tightly.
"Yes, sire! I'll come. I'll pass the exam. I promise."
The carriage moved on.
By sunset, they returned to the palace. Elias's jaw ached from smiling. He thought to himself that these ceremonies truly lasted far too long.
Stepping down from the carriage, he glanced at the setting sun. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with fresh air, savoring the calm. Then he turned and walked toward the banquet hall.
The doors opened, and the chandeliers' light briefly flooded the grand foyer. The noble guests bowed in unison, their voices rising together:
"Hail to the Emperor of Neyora!"
The crowd parted, forming a clear path to the emperor's seat. Elias walked slowly among them, meeting familiar faces, then sat upon his throne. With a simple gesture, he said:
"Continue."
Music resumed. Some returned to their conversations, others stepped forward with congratulations. Elias answered absentmindedly, his thoughts elsewhere—Daisy was expected to arrive midway through the celebration. He wondered how he should begin speaking to her.
"Hail to the Emperor."
He lifted his head. Arthur and his father, Charles Hamilton, were standing before him. Arthur, brimming with excitement, said:
"What's wrong? Lost in thought?"
His father cautioned him:
"Arthur, mind your words. He is the Emperor now."
Arthur laughed.
"That doesn't matter, Father. Elias and I don't stand on ceremony, do we?"
Then he winked.
Elias restrained himself from rising to embrace him. Arthur was here—lively and carefree as always. His golden hair bore the mark of the Hamilton line. Unlike his father, dressed in a navy suit embroidered with silver patterns and carrying himself with formality, Arthur wore a white coat and, true to habit, kept one hand tucked in his pocket.
Elias smiled.
"That's right. After all, we're old friends."
Arthur frowned, unconvinced.
"What do you mean old? I've known you since you were in swaddling clothes!"
Elias reminded him:
"We're the same age."
Arthur shrugged.
"So what? I've got a sharp memory."
Elias chuckled softly. Their conversations were always like this.
Hamilton turned sternly to his son.
"That's enough, Arthur."
Then he bowed to Elias.
"I apologize for my son's behavior. I hope you'll forgive him."
Charles Hamilton was one of the five most powerful families in the realm. Outwardly, he appeared a nobleman devoted to family. But Elias's opinion of him had changed the day Daisy handed him documents exposing Hamilton's true face. Even then, they had not been able to topple him completely. The five families were intertwined like roots of an ancient tree—if one was threatened, the others rushed to its aid.
They were like a thousand‑year‑old tree that no ordinary axe could fell.
It was hard to believe Arthur was the son of that man. Both were heirs to their fathers, and from childhood they had been raised together, meant to be close friends so that the alliance would endure.
Elias smiled.
"Don't worry. I'm used to his ways."
Hamilton bowed once more.
"Thank you. With your permission, I'll take my leave."
Arthur turned to his father.
"I'll stay a little longer."
As Hamilton descended the steps, he said:
"Very well. But watch your tongue."
"Yes, sir!"
Arthur stood beside the throne, casting a glance over the crowd.
"Well… congratulations. Even though you were the sole heir, still, no one but you deserved this place."
One of Arthur's peculiar talents was that he could spend an entire day teasing people—without the slightest trace of regret.
Elias said:
"Thank you. And you? When are you going to claim the title of Duke?"
Arthur raised both hands.
"The later, the better. I want to enjoy my youth for a long while yet."
"Enjoy your youth?" Elias asked.
Arthur continued:
"You know—traveling, meeting beautiful women… besides, I've got plenty of free time. If I become Duke, I'll have to sit behind a desk all day like my father…"
His words were cut short by the arrival of a group.
The Warren family—Lord Warren himself, his wife, their eldest son James, and Anna—stood before them. Elias looked at Anna. She wore a long evening gown, her black hair gathered neatly atop her head. As always, she was dignified, calm, and silent.
After bowing, Lord Warren said:
"Your Majesty, I wished to present a matter."
Elias guessed what it was.
"Well then, what is it?"
Warren, a man of average height with a belly protruding beneath his vest, smiled beneath his mustache. Judging by the difference in stature between him and his wife, it was clear the children favored their mother's side. He said:
"As you know, the position of Empress remains vacant. Now that you are Emperor, you must announce your betrothal as soon as possible."
Elias's guess had been correct. When his parents had declared their search for a bride, the five great families had pressed for Anna to be chosen. Each sought influence within the palace—and who better than the Empress herself?
The only resistance his parents had managed was to keep the engagement unofficial. Having shared a marriage of love themselves, they wished the same fate for their only son.
Elias looked at Anna again. Her expression had not changed, but she clutched her gown tighter than usual. Because of their shared life, he knew her habits well. Had he not known her since childhood, he might have thought her cold and emotionless.
"Do not worry," Elias said. "I will speak of the engagement soon. I am certain Anna will be pleased."
At these words, Warren bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I am sure my daughter will be delighted."
After they departed, Arthur leaned toward Elias.
"Hey! What did you mean by that?"
Elias, still watching them leave, replied indifferently:
"Which part?"
"The engagement!"
"Well, what didn't you understand?"
Arthur grew irritated at being brushed off.
"I mean you shouldn't have said you'd announce it!"
Arthur usually preferred not to meddle in matters such as marriage. Yet he thought Elias and Anna ought to reflect more carefully on this decision. They were both dear friends to him, and perhaps a hasty union would not bring them happiness.
Elias was about to reply when suddenly a voice rang out across the hall:
"Miss Daisy Walker, entering!"