Within the palace, King Valerius and Reginald stood in the king’s private office.

Valerius walked to the tall window overlooking the courtyard below.

From there, he watched as Mary hurried back toward the palace, leaving Luna von Arondain alone with Azrael. Almost immediately, Luna slipped her arm around the boy and clung to him with her usual disregard for courtly decorum.

A faint smile touched the king’s lips.

“So, Reginald, it seems Luna and Azrael are as close as ever.”

“Yes, my lord,” Reginald replied. “Though I sometimes wonder whether it may become a problem for Her Highness’s reputation.”

Valerius turned from the window.

“Why?” he asked. “Is it not a good thing that they remain such close friends?”

Reginald was silent for a moment before answering.

“She became attached to him because he was always by her side. When Your Majesty was burdened with the affairs of the kingdom, Azrael became her support.”

His gaze softened.

“Even after losing his memories and arriving here battered and broken, his first instinct was to care for her.”

Valerius lowered his eyes.

“She was alone after her mother passed away,” he said quietly. “I was consumed by the aftermath and could not be there as often as she needed.”

He let out a slow breath.

“If not for Azrael, I might have lost her as well.”

For a long moment, neither man spoke.

At last, Reginald broke the silence.

“He is still suffering from his lost memories, even if he does not realize it.”

Valerius looked up.

“The fragments return to him in dreams,” Reginald continued. “They seize him without warning and leave him lost in thoughts he cannot understand.”

His voice grew heavy.

“Though I am not his real father, it pains me to watch.”

Reginald adjusted his monocle and drew a deep breath.

“He always says he is fine. But deep down, he is still carrying wounds he cannot name.”

His eyes shifted to the courtyard below, where Luna still stood beside Azrael.

“In many ways, the princess is what keeps him from chasing those memories.”

A small, grateful smile touched his face.

“She is saving him, whether she knows it or not.”

Valerius nodded slowly.

“To think he was from Haven—”

A knock sounded at the door.

Both men fell silent at once.

“Your Majesty, I have arrived.”

The voice belonged to Marquis Gregor.

“Enter.”

The door opened, and the marquis stepped inside.

He was older than the king, with sharp features and calculating eyes that seemed to weigh everything in terms of gain. Throughout the kingdom, he was known for his greed and ambition, and countless rumors followed his name.

Valerius returned to his chair behind the desk.

“Take a seat.”

The warmth that had filled the room moments earlier vanished.

In its place settled the crushing authority of a king.

Gregor sat, though the confidence in his expression carried more arrogance than respect.

Valerius folded his hands.

“So, Marquis Gregor. What brings you here?”

Gregor inclined his head slightly.

“I will come directly to the point, Your Majesty.”

He leaned forward.

“Princess Luna is now fourteen, an age at which many young nobles begin formal engagements.”

Valerius’s expression did not change.

“And what does that have to do with you?”

Gregor smiled thinly.

“I assume Your Majesty remembers my nephew, Valen Gregarius.”

Valerius gave a short nod.

“Yes. He is often praised as one of the kingdom’s most promising young nobles.”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”

There was a calculating glint in Gregor’s eyes.

“It appears that my nephew has developed deep feelings for the princess. He asked me to speak with you regarding a possible engagement.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

An oppressive pressure spread outward from the king.

Valerius’s blue eyes hardened.

“So…”

His voice was calm, but every word carried unmistakable authority.

“You came here to propose that your nephew be engaged to my daughter—the jewel of this kingdom.”

Gregor met the king’s gaze without backing down.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

He folded his hands in his lap, his tone carefully measured.

“There are also rumors circulating throughout the court that Her Highness is spending an unusual amount of her time with a… lowly pest.”

The atmosphere in the room turned icy.

Valerius’s eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean by ‘pest’?”

Before Gregor could answer, Reginald took a step forward, his golden eyes flashing behind his monocle.

Gregor glanced at him with thinly veiled disdain.

“I am referring to that common boy the princess is always with.”

For the first time, genuine anger flickered across Reginald’s face.

“Watch your tongue.”

“Enough.”

The king’s voice cracked through the room like thunder.

Both men fell silent.

Valerius rose slowly from his chair.

The pressure in the office intensified until even the air itself seemed too heavy to breathe.

“Who,” the king asked, his voice dangerously calm, “do you think you are calling a pest?”

Gregor swallowed, but pressed on.

“Y-Your Majesty, he is nothing more than a commoner. No one knows where he came from or what kind of lineage he belongs to.”

Valerius’s expression darkened.

“You dare speak that way of the family that has served the royal line since the founding of this kingdom?”

Gregor stiffened.

“But, Your Majesty, he is only adopted.”

“So what?”

The king took a step forward.

“He was raised by Reginald himself. He has mastered every manner, every etiquette, and every duty expected within this palace.”

Valerius’s voice grew firmer.

“And more importantly, he is the person I trust most when it comes to Luna.”

Gregor fell silent.

For a moment, the only sound in the office was the king’s steady breathing.

Then Valerius returned to his chair and spoke with finality.

“As for the matter of the engagement…”

His gaze remained cold.

“I refuse.”

He folded his hands once more.

“Luna has the right to choose her own partner.”

His voice left no room for argument.

“She is free to choose whomever she wishes.”

Gregor bowed his head.

“As you command, Your Majesty.”

Outwardly, he remained composed.

But beneath his calm expression, humiliation and fury churned like poison.

He had come to secure a royal engagement and had instead been rebuked because of a single servant.

A sharp knock suddenly echoed through the office.

Before anyone could respond, a royal knight hurried inside and dropped to one knee.

“Your Majesty, forgive the interruption, but this is urgent.”

Valerius rose at once.

“What happened?”

The knight lifted his head, breathing heavily.

“Lord Valen Gregarius has challenged Azrael to a duel.”

For a moment, the room fell completely silent.

Reginald’s face drained of color.

Valerius’s eyes widened.

“A duel?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The confrontation took place in the palace courtyard.”

The king’s expression hardened.

He turned to the kneeling knight.

“Go to the Prime Minister at once.”

The knight straightened.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Inform him that today’s audience with the nobility is suspended until further notice.”

“At once, Your Majesty.”

The knight bowed deeply and hurried from the office.

Without another word, Valerius strode toward the door.

“Reginald, with me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Both men moved immediately.

The king’s expression was grim.

Reginald’s usual composure had vanished, replaced by the unmistakable fear of a father rushing to protect his son.

Behind them, Gregor slowly rose to his feet.

A thin smile crept across his lips.

Where Valerius and Reginald saw danger, Gregor saw opportunity