Chapter 95

The old king lay on his bed, weak yet content, as he looked at the scene
before him.

Everything would be alright. Tears flowed from Yarlin’s cloudy eyes as he
felt an inexplicable power surging in his heart. He knew it was because of his
own weakness that he had placed the future of the country in a situation he
could no longer control.

The bedroom was filled with monks, their heads bowed in devout prayer for
God’s new followers.

The young bishop, eyes downcast, softly recited the Bible. The prince
kneeled on one knee before the cardinal, his slightly curly brown hair neatly
arranged, his shoulders adorned with shining metal epaulets.

The court painter faithfully captured the scene. This was a crucial day for Lecy

, marking the beginning of a new path for its destiny.

“…May God bless you.”

The bishop dipped his hand into the silver basin, the cold holy water
covering his fingers. He lifted his hand and traced a cross on the prince’s
forehead.

“God bless you,” the bishop said softly.

The prince raised his face. His burned features could not be called
handsome, but they were undeniably resolute. There was a persistence and
determination in his expression that commanded respect.

The prince extended his hand, grasping the bishop’s fingers and lightly
kissing them. “Thank the Lord for giving my soul a place to rest.”

The prince and the king exchanged a kiss on the cheek. The king, tears
streaming down his face, whispered in his ear, “Randes, I bless you. I am
blessed that your future will be better than mine. I bless that you will lead
Lais into the light. Randes, I bless everything about you. Treat your people
and your brothers well, find a good wife, and continue the glory of the Hakat.”

The prince did not respond, as there were things he could not promise. He
simply nodded slowly. The old king did not need a response now, only a sense of
self-comfort.

The bishop also blessed the old king. Despite his lack of devout faith,
being surrounded by clergy made the old king unconsciously start to believe in
God’s existence. Believing that God would take him to heaven made him feel much
better.

The ceremony ended, and Yarlin held the prince’s hand, giving one last
instruction: “Choose a good girl at the ball tonight, a girl as good as your
mother, and bring her to see me. I want to see you get married.”

The prince glanced at the cardinal by the bedside and whispered, “Father,
sleep now.”

The monks followed the prince and bishop out of the king’s bedroom.

“There’s a ball tonight,” the prince offered, “Please stay. After the ball,
I’ll arrange for someone to take you back to the church.”

The monks, always living a life of austerity, had never heard of a monk
attending a ball. They looked at each other in surprise. Their priest, now a
bishop, thanked the prince, and they were led away by a servant as instructed
by the prince.

The prince and bishop continued their conversation, speaking softly. The
prince’s head was slightly bowed, appearing to defer to the bishop, or perhaps
listening intently to his teachings. His broad shoulders looked more imposing
than the bishop’s, but his slightly leaning posture and his expression
suggested he was deferential and trusting towards the bishop.

Sharman watched from the end of the corridor, his mind in turmoil. He had
not slept well the previous night, feeling a restless demon stirring within
him.

The prince and the priest entered a room, and Sharman, too fearful to
follow, remained in place. He worried that the priest might reveal his crimes
to the prince.

Back then, he was still a child. He had heard all day that Randes was to be
baptized. Born with a disability, with curly hair and brown eyes, Randes looked
like a little lion and had a peculiar temperament that annoyed Sharman.
Muttering to himself, he had sneaked through the palace with a candle,
intending to ruin the small dress Randes was to wear the next day.

When the candle accidentally fell, Sharman was terrified. He was only bold
enough to commit small misdeeds, but once there was a risk of exposure, his
first instinct was to flee.

Sharman had run away. The ensuing fire disfigured Randes and caused Sharman
to fall seriously ill.

After recovering, Sharman never dared to see Landers. He buried the secret
deep within his heart, but always felt it was not truly hidden. Sin always had
witnesses. But he never expected the first to bring up this old matter would be
the priest.

Fear made Sharman want to escape. On the battlefield, he could flee back to
the capital; in the palace, he could retreat to his own quarters. But what
about later? When Randes ascended the throne, there would be nowhere left to
run.

The priest’s threat was precise and powerful. The frightening part was that Randes
seemed to be thoroughly manipulated by the priest, completely unaware that
these threats were meant to coerce him into collaboration.

Sharman felt both fear and amusement. His eyes, red from a sleepless night,
gazed down the dark corridor, unable to discern who was more unfortunate,
himself or Randes.

—

There were many empty rooms in the palace. The prince boldly kissed the
priest in one of them. “You are especially charming today.”

The priest responded with a faint smile.

“Did you open the box Bill sent?”

The priest lazily replied, “Yes, I did.”

The prince said, “The ball starts at 9 PM.”

“I know.”

The prince felt his heart racing. In an undeniable tone, he said, “Come
to my ball.”

“We will come,” the priest deflected, “We will watch the ball
from an appropriate place upstairs. Thank you for your invitation.”

The prince stared at the priest’s face. “You know that’s not what I
meant.”

The priest continued to evade, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Come on,” the prince said without hesitation, “you are the
one person in this world who understands me best.”

The priest’s demeanor finally changed a little. He smiled slightly and
touched the prince’s face. “Randes, you are too bold.”

The prince passionately kissed the priest’s lips, his smile carrying a hint
of madness, though it was controlled, a wildness under his command. “I
know, you understand everything.”

The prince embraced the priest and kissed him deeply. The previous day’s
unhappiness was already forgotten. In the face of love, it was normal to be
hesitant and uncertain, but to remain mired in it was weakness. The prince was
never weak; he pursued his love with vigor, like a true man.

The atmosphere grew too intense. The priest timely stopped the prince’s hand
from slipping under his robes, whispering, “Prince, now is not the right
time for this. You just swore your faith to God.”

The prince borrowed the steward’s idea, “You are my God.”

The priest had to admit he was very pleased now. It was a strange joy, a bit
light-headed, as if infected by some bacteria that made him feel happy at this
moment.

Was he happy because of the prince’s wholehearted love for him?

Unbelievable.

How could something so easily attained bring him joy?

As he thought this, the priest closed his eyes and kissed the prince back.

In the empty room of the palace, the prince and the priest, without even
removing their clothes, embraced each other fiercely, a fiery passion quickly
engulfing them both.

Afterwards, the prince helped the priest tidy his clothes and whispered,
“9 o’clock, don’t forget, 9 o’clock.”

“What if I say I won’t come?” the priest whispered back.

They were alone in the room, but their conversation was like lovers
whispering to each other.

“No, you will come,” the prince said firmly.

The priest laughed mockingly.

The prince continued, “I wouldn’t be sure about anyone else, but you
will definitely come because you are such a bold person. And you would never
miss a chance to fool everyone. You love doing such mischievous things,”
the prince’s tone was indulgent, like an adult to a naughty child. He
affectionately kissed the priest’s lips. “Come, let them all be
disappointed, let them rack their brains trying to guess who you really are.
Let them never imagine our noble new bishop secretly meeting a man under their
very noses…”

The prince kissed the priest’s neck under his collar and reaffirmed,
“You will come.”

The priest laughed, his breath tickling the prince’s ear, “Yes, Randes,
you are absolutely right. I will come. I wouldn’t miss tonight’s ball for a
second.”

—

Sharman crouched in the corner, feeling extremely tense. It seemed to him
that the prince and the priest had been in the room for a long time, plotting
something. This thought suddenly led to another terrifying idea—could this be a
trap set by the prince and the priest together?

Sharman shivered all over and quickly abandoned this speculation.

No, knowing Randes’s character, he would probably just kill him outright.

Kill him… Sharman started trembling again.

Finally, the door of the empty room opened. The prince and the priest walked
out, exchanged a few words, and then went their separate ways.

Sharman held his breath. He hesitated on when to call out to the priest at
an appropriate moment. The priest’s footsteps halted, stopping just half a step
away from Sharman in the corridor. Sharman was peering, but the blind priest
accurately looked towards him, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Your
Highness?”

Indeed, this was an unusual person.

Sharman controlled his racing heart. The priest poured him a cup of coffee.
Sharman took the coffee, forgetting to even thank him.

If it weren’t for the priest’s eyes, which had that unfocused look
characteristic of the blind, Sharman might have suspected that the priest could
actually see.

“Have you decided, Your Highness?” the priest asked
straightforwardly.

Sharman took a sip of the coffee. It was overly sweet, sticking in his
throat. Sharman nodded slightly, then asked eagerly, “What exactly do you
want me to do?”

He didn’t realize how foolishly proactive this question made him appear,
putting himself at a disadvantage. Cold sweat broke out on him, his already
dwindling rationality completely gone after the torment of the entire evening.

“Or rather, what do you want to do?” Sharman’s tone grew more
urgent. “Is it something for tonight’s ball?”

The priest smiled gently. “What Your Highness needs to do is very
simple, effortless. There’s no need to know now. Just wait patiently. Rest
assured, it’s just a small matter. You have the courage to face battles; you
will surely be able to do what I expect of you.”

Sharman was at a loss. He couldn’t see his own situation clearly. If he were
calm or wise enough, he would understand how dangerous the priest’s words were.
He was putting himself in jeopardy without knowing the consequences. Even more
terrifying was how he nodded without hesitation, even calmly sipping his
coffee, feeling that everything was finally settled, at least there was an
explanation.

The priest saw through Sharman too clearly. He recognized him as
fundamentally weak, most willing to be manipulated by others so he wouldn’t
have to make decisions himself, just drifting along with the current.

“At least, can I know the exact time? Is it during the ball?”
Sharman asked again.

“Before or after,” the priest still didn’t give a definite answer.
“Just wait patiently.”

Sharman actually felt reassured.

Waiting, blissfully waiting without any thoughts, was such a happy thing.

Sharman took another large sip of the overly sweet coffee. Then, quite
inexplicably, he said, “I didn’t mean to.”

A questioning sound escaped the priest’s nostrils.

“That fire…” Sharman trembled his lips. “I didn’t mean
to…”

The priest smiled. “It doesn’t matter. If it makes you feel
better,” the priest said, “after tonight, God will forgive your
sins.”

—

Around eight o’clock, the prince was already dressed neatly. He played with
the mask in his hand, covering his face as he looked at the steward, then
removing it and smiling at the steward.

Bill smiled, “The prince’s mood has improved.”

“Yes,” the prince said generously, “I’m feeling quite good
now.”

Bill also became cheerful, “It looks like the young lady will
definitely come tonight?”

The prince’s smile faded slightly, then quickly returned.

Yes, who wouldn’t love supreme power? But the prince could be sure that the
priest chose him not to seize power with his help. Otherwise, he could easily
lie to him that he loved him, which would be even easier.

The priest denied loving him, which made the prince feel a different kind of
tenderness. Someone so good at lying wouldn’t deceive him in this way…

Bill’s whole body got goosebumps from the prince’s smile.

It’s terrible.

When he thought of himself in love, he felt that it was understandable, that
no matter how strong-willed and capable people are, they cannot extricate
themselves from love.

Bill thought of his fiancée, and a sweet smile spread across his face.

“What time is it?” 

The prince asked while glancing at the clock.

“Twenty minutes left.”

Time seemed to pass so slowly.

The prince stood up and paced around the room. He wasn’t using his cane; the
boots tailored for him were excellent, and after practicing all afternoon, he
had barely gotten used to them. Though his insteps were a bit sore from being
squeezed, it was worthwhile. At least tonight, he wouldn’t look like a cripple.

Almost every two to three minutes, the prince glanced up at the clock on the
wall. When there were only ten minutes left until nine o’clock, the chief guard
entered.

Today, Brune looked radiant, his face beaming with smiles. The prince looked
at Brune and quietly embraced him.

“Randes, you look really good today.”

“Thank you.”

Brune squeezed Randes’s shoulder and smiled. “Finally, the day has come
for you to return to your royal duties.”

The prince smiled. He had never abandoned his duty to his own in his heart.

Brune looked Randes up and down. “Randes, you seem a bit nervous.”

“Really?” The prince’s face turned serious. “Nervous? I’m not
nervous.”

Brune laughed heartily. “Well, don’t be nervous,” he winked,
“it should be the ladies who are nervous.”

Brune’s arrival indeed eased the prince’s mood. Bill joined in the
conversation, and the three of them chatted and laughed, finally getting
through the most difficult ten minutes.

Nine o’clock arrived.

Bill urged the prince to put on his mask. After the prince put on his mask,
the steward and the chief guard checked his entire outfit and accessories. Once
everything was confirmed to be in order, Bill opened the door for the prince
and the chief guard with brisk steps.

The golden staircase railing was spotless, shimmering like stars under the
huge crystal chandelier. The prince walked at the front. On his right side was
the stern chief guard, and on his left was his most trusted steward. Behind him
were two rows of eight tall and dignified palace attendants.

The ballroom was already filled with guests. When the prince’s figure
appeared at the end of the stairs, the noise in the ballroom disappeared, and
everyone immediately bowed in accordance with etiquette.

The prince stepped steadily down the burgundy carpet. He was wearing a black
tailcoat with a deep green gemstone brooch on his chest. His specially made
mask covered most of his face, accentuating his mysterious and majestic aura.

The noble ladies discreetly appraised the prince, realizing he wasn’t as
hideous as rumored. His tall and statuesque figure resembled that of a palace
statue, and his deep brown eyes exuded the demeanor of a king, making people
dare not look at him too much. The ladies secretly breathed a sigh of relief at
the prince’s demeanor.

The prince didn’t greet anyone. He scanned the surroundings with a proud
gaze, confident that he owed no one present any feelings. Many of their
expressions were merely superficial deference. Before dealing with the
revolutionary party, he first had to conquer these stubborn aristocrats of Lecy.
This was a difficult battle, and tonight’s ball was just the beginning.

But had his comrade arrived…

The crowd in the ballroom parted from both sides. The eligible young ladies
attending the ball stepped forward hesitantly. The prince’s eyes swept over one
mask after another. All were waiting, and even the musicians were eagerly
awaiting to perform the first dance of the night.

No, not her, not her either, none of them.

Those pairs of eyes, brown, blue, hazel, amber… They were not
unattractive, set in faces masked by their masks that could still show beauty.
But none of them were the ones he desired…

The eyes he longed for seemed calm and peaceful, yet they contained a huge
flame capable of igniting everything in this world!

Hadn’t she come?

The prince’s heart began to beat faster. His confidence almost instantly
evaporated. Had he been mistaken in his understanding of him? Had such bold and
crazy actions failed to provoke his interest?

The prince’s face grew tighter, and on his left rear side, Bill noticed the
signs and couldn’t help but become nervous too.

The mysterious girl didn’t come?!

Bill’s heart was extremely uneasy. Just as he was about to approach the
prince to remind him to start the opening, the prince finally moved his feet—

All the nobles in the room watched as the prince strode purposefully towards
the crowd, his steps firm and straight in a particular direction.
Involuntarily, everyone turned their heads to follow his gaze.

In a corner of the crowd, next to deep blue curtains, a figure dressed in
black stood by the window. “She” wore a black dress that covered her
completely, revealing only a snowy white neck and collarbone. Around her neck
was a black silk ribbon adorned with a vivid green gem, matching
“her” luminous green eyes perfectly. Her face was partially obscured
by a black feather mask strikingly similar to the prince’s, leaving no doubt in
anyone’s mind that she was undoubtedly a beauty. “Her” crimson lips
curled slightly, not with aristocratic restraint but with a provocative
wildness, as if she were challenging someone to battle.

The prince approached her, restraining his inner excitement. He raised his
hand and whispered softly, “May I have the honor of dancing with
you?”