Chapter : 30

  The 5th Prince let out a sharp sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He looked at Zefar with clear disappointment.

  "Stop acting like a child," the 5th Prince scolded, his voice dripping with venom. "We are the top-ranking unit in the Belmontia Empire. We are surrounded by hundreds of witnesses. Do you think it makes us look powerful to start a street brawl over a few words? Fighting with low-borns makes us look bad. It makes us look insecure. You are dragging my name through the mud."

  "I... I apologize, Your Highness," Zefar whispered, keeping his eyes glued to the floor. "I lost my temper. It will not happen again."

  The 5th Prince finally turned his cold eyes toward Ken and Sayma. He looked at them as if they were a stain on the carpet.

  "Control your stray dog, Sayma," the 5th Prince said dismissively, not even addressing Ken directly. "If he continues to bark at his betters, someone might actually put him down. Zefar, come with me. We have important matters to discuss, and we are wasting time in this corner."

  The 5th Prince turned around and walked away without waiting for an answer. The crowd of nobles quickly stepped back to let him pass.

  Zefar stood perfectly still for a moment, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles turned white. He was humiliated. He had been yelled at by his own Prince in front of the very peasant he was trying to bully. The embarrassment was burning him up inside worse than his own fire magic.

  Zefar slowly lifted his head. He looked past Sayma and locked eyes with Ken. His face was a mask of pure hatred.

  "You got lucky, peasant," Zefar whispered, his voice trembling with a dark, violent promise. "The Prince saved you today. But the Succession War has no rules outside of this building. Watch your back."

  With that final, angry threat, Zefar spun around. His expensive red cape flared out behind him as he marched away, following his Prince back into the crowd of wealthy nobles.

  The heavy tension in the corner finally broke.

  Neil let out a massive breath of relief, leaning heavily against the wall. Love wiped a thick layer of sweat off his forehead, his hands still shaking.

  Sayma let out a quiet sigh and lowered her hands. She pushed her glasses up one more time and turned to look at Ken.

  "Ken," Sayma said, her voice a mix of relief and annoyance. "You really need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. You almost got yourself roasted."

  Naomi threw her hands in the air. "Almost? I wish he did roast him! What is wrong with you, farm boy? You were practically begging him to attack you! If the 5th Prince hadn't walked in, we would have had a major incident on our hands!"

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  Ken pulled his hand out of his pocket, completely letting go of the tiny spell he had been holding. He slumped his shoulders, let his mouth hang open, and gave them a wide, goofy, totally innocent smile.

  "What? I didn't do anything!" Ken protested lazily, throwing his hands up in a shrug. "I was just trying to share my snacks! Honestly, rich people are so weird. They get angry over the smallest things. I bet if Zefar just ate a potato chip, he would be much happier."

  Naomi groaned loudly, pressing her hands against her face in frustration. "You are impossible. I am going back to the couch before you start a war with someone else." She stomped away, muttering under her breath about how useless he was.

  Sayma gave Ken a tired but polite smile. "Just stay here, Ken. And please, try not to talk to anyone wearing expensive clothes for the rest of the day."

  "Yes, Vice-Captain!" Ken said, giving her a highly exaggerated, crooked salute.

  Sayma shook her head and walked back to join Naomi.

  Ken leaned back against the wall, turning back to Neil and Love. They were both staring at him like he was an absolute lunatic.

  "You are crazy, Ken," Love whispered in awe. "You didn't even blink when he pulled out that fire."

  "Yeah, well, fire is pretty to look at," Ken joked lazily, reaching back over to his silver plate. He picked up another tiny piece of fancy bread. "Anyway, the scary guy is gone. The normal people club survives another hour. Now, who wants to bet that I can toss this tiny swan sandwich into my mouth from five feet away?"

  As Ken happily tossed the food into the air and totally missed, catching it on his nose instead, his mind was perfectly calm. Zefar’s threat meant absolutely nothing to him. But he knew one thing for sure: the 5th Prince's top servant was definitely going to hold a grudge.

  "Let him come," Ken thought casually, wiping a crumb off his crooked tie. "If he tries to bother me during a real mission, I might just have to show him what real heat looks like."

  ----

  Later that evening, the long and incredibly boring registration day had finally come to an end. The Upper Council building was massive, and the Royal families were given temporary guest rooms in the side wings of the palace to rest before they traveled back to their own headquarters.

  For Ken Eliot, the day had been a total nightmare of standing around, listening to old men make long speeches, and trying to avoid eye contact with angry nobles. His feet hurt. His back hurt from carrying Princess Iris’s heavy luggage. But most of all, he just wanted a few minutes of absolute peace and quiet.

  Ken slipped out of his guest room, making sure not to wake up Grandmaster Finlay, who was snoring loudly down the hall. Ken walked down a quiet, dimly lit corridor until he found exactly what he was looking for: a large, open balcony made of white marble.

  He stepped outside into the cool night air. The moon was bright, shining down on the beautiful capital city of the Belmontia Empire. It was very peaceful.

  "Finally," Ken whispered to himself, letting out a massive, happy sigh. He slouched his shoulders, leaned his elbows against the smooth marble railing, and let his body completely relax. "No more yelling. No more crazy magic users showing off. Just me, the moon, and my stolen snacks."

  Ken reached deep into the pockets of his messy servant uniform. Earlier in the Waiting Pavilion, before they were called back to the Great Hall, he had managed to stuff a bunch of those tiny, swan-shaped cheese sandwiches into his pockets. They were slightly crushed and a little warm, but Ken did not care. Food was food.

  He popped a squished cheese swan into his mouth and chewed happily. He closed his eyes, enjoying the simple, quiet moment. He thought about his soft bed back at the 13th Unit's crumbling estate. He just wanted to go home and sleep for a week.

  But of course, in an anime-style world filled with twenty-one Royal families and hundreds of arrogant knights, peace was never allowed to last for more than five minutes.