Kronos sighed, visibly slumping even further into his bed. “What a shame. I’m assuming my dearest brother’s other sons are not here, as well?”

Hannibal answered him this time. Fitting, Jameson thought, recalling at how he and the brutish Maximus were as close as a pack of wild wolves. There was a crisscross of scars on his knees from when the two of them took his cane and made him crawl to get it back. He heard their raucous laughter and saw their eyes blazing with gleeful malice for weeks. A wave of relief swept down his shoulders when he discovered that Maximus wouldn't be in attendance. It was better to deal with one, but never both at once.

"Japetus has them with him at the Temple," Hannibal replied. "He wanted them close by, so he sent a replacement."

Replacement. No one can replace Leopold! Jameson wanted to say, but held his tongue. He didn’t want to raise any suspicions. Even though the prince’s disappearance had been a while ago (three months, two weeks, and a single day, Jameson remembered), the pain of it was still fresh, even for himself. Jameson couldn’t go anywhere in the Golden City without remembering the days when he did it with Leopold. Leo. Leo was his name to Jameson, his closest confidant, his fondest friend. Not a day went by when he didn’t yearn to look into his eyes again, as calm and tranquil as the Temple’s fountains. Even his laugh, a rowdy sound that always hurt Jameson’s ears, he would give anything to hear once again. Truly, the prince was the light of Jameson’s life, and no sacred ceremony could change that.

Jameson was so locked into his own thoughts that he failed to hear Kronos call out his name. It took a sharp pinch from Balthasar to wake him up.

“What? What is it?” he blubbered.

“Your king is speaking to you,” Balthasar said with a cheeky grin.

Jameson gulped. Being addressed by anyone made his heart quicken, but the king? Even in the midst of dying, he still had an air of superiority over him, that with one fell swoop, he could smite him out of existence. That's what he did to his father, Jameson remembered. The mere memory of the tragedy made his hip ache, or perhaps it was because he had stood in one spot for some time, unmoving?

Gathering himself, Jameson hobbled over toward Kronos' bedside. The girl beside him watched him all the way, with those shining blue eyes of hers that reminded him far too much of the king's own. She didn't move when he finally did reach them, even when he bent his head in a respectful bow that sent a tingle of pain up his spine.

“Your Majesty,” he murmured.

“Servant,” Kronos grunted.

Jameson flinched, from both the pain in his body and the harshness of the older man’s tone. “Y-You asked for me?”

“Do you know why you're here?”

Because I was too slow to run away? “To stand witness as the king passes, so that he won't be alone,” Jameson recited.

He hoped that Kronos didn’t hear the waver in his voice, but whether or not he did obviously didn’t phase him. He still regarded Jameson with an unwavering stare, as if he, too, could see through the child’s answer.

It was a moment before the king spoke again. "A sentimental response,” he said, “but no. You're here… because one of you will be my heir."

Jameson heard a few gasps from behind him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Selene clutch Hester tighter, and Balthasar’s haughty grin stretched even further.

Only Jameson reacted in confusion. Perhaps it was his lack of understanding concerning the situation that made him blink, bewildered, rather than either learn closer toward the king or away.

"But, sire, you already have heirs,” Jameson said, immediately recalling his many children.

The king visibly winced, as if Jameson had wrenched free a knife from his chest. It shook him to the point where it forced a storm of coughing to rattle him. Even when the girl beside him took him by his hand again, he didn’t return to his docile state for some time.

“Thank you, Leto,” he breathed once he was able to collect himself. “Though you offer little words, what you do is enough.”

He patted her hand, a long and wrinkled limb that was lightly peppered with crimson. Although she gave him a gentle smile, Jameson saw reluctance in her gaze when their eyes met. Even she didn’t want to be anywhere near the old man.

“As you all know, I do have children,” Kronos continued as Leto laid him back down in his bed. “But as you also may see, none of them are here. Would you like to guess why?”

Balthasar’s eagerness was as apparent as the smile on his face as he waved his hand. “They’re bastards, sire,” he replied and flashed Jameson a knowing look.

Jameson looked away, his cheeks burning.

The king nodded. “Indeed. My beautiful wife, the radiant Queen Rheia, is afflicted with a barren womb. Through her, I could never have children of my own. However, she was humble enough to let me have children with other women.

“But although they are of my seed, none of them are worthy of anything, let alone a crown,” he went on. “That is why you are here. All of you. When I was your age, the world was much different than it is now. Chaos everywhere you turned, and the main cause of it… was my father. He ruled this kingdom with an iron fist, and crushed anyone he deemed his enemy with it. I was scared then, and wanted more than anything to do something about it, but I was more afraid of my father's wrath than any harm done from any kind of monster. But the last straw was when he threatened the life of my mother. That was too much. So, along with my brothers, your fathers, we fought back. They held him down as I dealt him the finishing blow, and from his death, I restored our land. I discovered my worthiness that day, and tonight, so shall you."

The king rose in his bed. Although Leto rushed to aid him, he waved her off. “One of you will be the new king,” he said, standing to his feet. His eye then went to Selene and Angela that stood by her side. “Or queen,” he quickly added. “But in order to choose, I must ask: which one of you is worthy?”

“I am, sire,” Balthasar piped up, shouldering past Jameson. “My father stood by you when you overthrew the Mad King. By right, it should be me.”

“By right, it should be the firstborn,” Hannibal said, “not the runt of the litter.”

Jameson didn’t have time to hide his smile before Balthasar raked him with a steely-eyed glare. But before he could tear into him, the king spoke up. “Your brother is correct,” he said. “The oldest foundation in the universe is the right of the firstborn. Had it not been myself who directly usurped my father, Japetus, my beloved older brother, would rule instead.”

Something about that statement seemed to have struck a chord. Using his bed frame as a support, Kronos held a finger to his mouth in deep thought. His eyes glazed over, and Jameson briefly wondered if he was in some sort of trance, before his head shot up.

“You,” he said to Jameson.

“Me?” Jameson asked.

“Yes...” Kronos whispered. “Yes, I see it now. It’s as clear as day!”

“His egg’s finally cracked,” Balthasar said under his breath.

Kronos rushed toward Jameson. With a grip akin to iron clasps, he grabbed him by his shoulders and held him up until their noses were practically touching.

“You will be my heir,” he wheezed.

Jameson would have fainted had he not been in his arms already. “S-Sire, I believe that you’re mistaken!”

"No," Kronos said, furiously shaking his head. His hair, like thin wisps of smoke, flew across his face in a frenzy as his eyes took on a wild light. "Leopold. I remember my nephew. Quiet, reserved. Cool, calculated. Not like his brothers. No, those fools can’t tell their hands from their feet. He knew what his opponent was going to do next before they could even think about it. Wise far beyond his years, that one is. Not even I have that ability. Such are the perfect qualities of a king. But he isn't here. So, it is up to you to find him. Bring him to the court. Return him to his people, his family.”

“You can’t be serious!” Balthasar shouted.

But the king was on a roll, one that if Jameson didn’t pay close attention to, would find himself crushed under its path.

“Find my brother’s son,” he said, practically pleading. “No matter what it takes.”