Chapter 197: The Old King
If the second prince, Eric, was the kind of man who always wore a fake smile and forced himself to act friendly, then the crown prince, Solor, was the complete opposite.
Solor was actually someone who loved to laugh. Even the phrase “likes to joke around”, which didn’t seem to suit someone of royal blood, once described him very well.
But life as a prince came with pressure.
Solor was born with a kind and gentle face. People used to say he looked like an angel, and that if he ever became King, he would surely be a kind and benevolent ruler.
But everyone also knew, kind rulers don’t live long.
Everyone praised Solor. Everyone smiled at Solor. They called him a good and kind child, but in truth, they were laughing at how naive he was to the cruelty of palace life.
Even while these two brothers were still in their mother’s wombs, the court officials had already split into three factions because of the rivalry between the two royal consorts. Each side secretly fought for their own prince, while mocking the other side for foolishly supporting the current king.
The old King saw it all, but said nothing.
Only once, when someone in the great hall asked, “Will Your Majesty choose the most capable or the eldest as your heir?” Only then did the old King speak.
His voice was deep and powerful, echoing through the empty chamber so clearly you could hear the rumble in his throat.
“Are you saying I’m old?”
Just a few words and the entire hall fell silent.
The old ministers all shut their mouths.
But that silence didn’t last long. As the two princes grew up, and the two royal consorts passed away one after another, the buzzing in the old King’s ears started up again.
After the consorts died, the old king did consider whether he should marry a new queen. After all, he had once cheated during a pregnancy. So of course, he could also remarry after his wife’s death.
When the second prince was 17 and the crown prince 19, the old King began planning to remarry.
But before anything could be arranged, before even the rumors settled, the old King fell ill.
They said it started as a cold, but it caused a high fever. His body, already weak, developed complications, and the illness became something he couldn’t recover from.
After the old King collapsed, the two princes, Solor and Eric, stepped into the public eye.
Solor, being the eldest, naturally took on the role of overseer. But since he had a younger brother, some power was also handed to Prince Eric.
Though they were brothers by blood, they were forced to compete with each other. Maybe neither of them wanted a bloody fight. But sadly, they were born into royalty.
They now kept each other in check, locked in a subtle and delicate balance full of tension.
But how long could that balance really last?
Would they wait until the scale tipped on its own, or would one of them shatter this golden, majestic scale completely?
“Father, the medicine has cooled. You can drink it now.”
Solor held up a white porcelain bowl filled with bitter-smelling medicine and brought it to his father, Pandelata Cleia’s lips.
It had been six or seven years since the old King had fallen ill.
Now, Crown Prince Solor was 26, and Second Prince Eric was 24. Both in the prime of their lives.
People said the old King had already recovered a lot over the years. He was just physically weak, still resting and building his strength. Maybe soon, he could return to the throne.
“Cough... cough, cough...”
But the old King lying on the sickbed didn’t look like he was getting better at all. If he weren’t lying on the royal golden bed, you might have thought he was just some old man waiting to die.
His face was pale, his lips trembled, and deep wrinkles covered his whole face. The skin on his cheeks sagged lifelessly, as if his features had collapsed.
If someone lifted the blanket to look at his arms and legs, they would see the truth. His limbs were so thin and bony, it was clear that his illness had reached a critical stage.
The two princes kept telling the public that the King was steadily improving, but anyone seeing him now would know. He didn’t have much time left.
“Father, take it slow,” Solor gently helped the old King sit up and patted his back to help him breathe easier.
Anyone who had seen the King a few years ago would definitely say he aged too fast.
At first, it was just a cough. Even though his body couldn’t handle the strain and he stopped attending court, back then you could still see him walking around the royal garden.
Even though he had "stepped back" because of illness, the old King was still very “concerned” with the affairs of the country. He stayed informed about what was happening at court through his many spies, all without ever leaving his room.
He knew his eldest son had just won a great victory in battle and had promoted a new head of the knight order, replacing the old generation and gaining control over the knights’ power.
He also knew his second son had been quietly running the “House of Nightingale” left behind by his mother, and had trained a group of highly skilled assassins.
That day, as he sat in the garden, smelling the flowers and grass, the old King tapped his cane lightly and let out a long sigh through his nose.
He called one of his most trusted aides over and spoke a few words to him.
His first sentence caused the fully armored captain of the knights to collapse right where he stood, blood pouring from his mouth, nose, even from his eye sockets.
If the crown prince hadn’t pulled him back in time, the position of knight commander might have changed hands then and there. And if that happened, the question of who controlled the knight order would be up in the air.
His second sentence brought the secret assassin group, who had been hiding in the shadows, into the spotlight of the knight order’s high command.
Through careful words and guidance, the King led them to blame many past unsolved cases on these assassins. Because of that, the expanding assassin force was forced to go quiet for a long while, even suffering serious losses in their secret battles with the knights.
But the third sentence... he never got to say.
Because after that, his illness got worse, much worse.
The old King, trembling, slowly sat up and looked at his eldest son by his side. That golden hair shimmered brightly, and the youthful energy on his face was full of pride and hope.
So much like himself in his younger years. So bright, so dazzling.
“Father.”
Solor held the bowl of medicine and gently brought a spoonful of the bitter soup to his father’s mouth.
“Once you drink this medicine, you’ll feel better. See? You don’t feel pain right now, do you?”
Solor watched as his father slowly drank each spoonful. He kept feeding him the medicine bit by bit, not letting a single drop go to waste.
“Don’t worry too much, Father,” Solor said gently after finishing the medicine, helping the old King ease the bitterness down his chest.
“If you stress over things, it’ll only make your illness worse. The doctors said this is mostly a matter of the heart, so you can’t let yourself get too worked up.”
“Mmm…”
The old King gave a low groan, his voice rough and weak. Following Solor’s support, he slowly lay back down, as if the medicine had made him sleepy and he needed to rest.
“I’ll take my leave now, Father. Please rest well.”
“……”
The old King didn’t respond much. Just silently allowed Solor to leave.
Although the crown prince acted like a stand-in king in public, here in the King’s room, he still had to watch his father’s every expression.
Solor stood up, his deep red eyes looking down at his father, who lay resting with his eyes closed.
People always said that Solor had a kind-looking face. But his pair of red eyes, just like his mother’s, had always seemed a bit frightening.
As a child, his red eyes looked clear and bright, like two polished rubies. Back then, the palace servants often talked about how good-looking the crown prince was, and how beautiful his eyes were.
Although the former empress’s red eyes were unsettling, especially with her cold and serious expression, people believed that the crown prince wouldn’t turn out like her. After all, he always smiled.
Now, it was clear they were wrong.
Solor’s red eyes had become just like his mother’s. Sometimes, when he wore glasses while working, they looked a bit softer. But now, staring straight at the old King, even without any change in expression, those eyes gave off a chilling feeling.
If you're born into the royal family, even if you’re innocent as a child, you eventually turn into this.
He used to wonder why his mother never smiled at others and always kept a stern face in front of the gossiping servants.
Now, he understood everything.
He turned away and exchanged a glance with the guard standing at the door. The guard understood instantly and gave a respectful bow.
Solor nodded slightly, then pushed open the door to the King’s bedroom.
As he stepped out, the guards outside greeted him with full formality. This calm and commanding Solor looked like a completely different person from the one who just knelt humbly at the King’s bedside.
“Brother? You’ve already visited Father?”
At the hallway corner, Solor ran into his younger brother, Eric.
Even though every official in the royal court knew the two princes were in fierce competition, each leading their own political faction, when the two of them met face-to-face, the tension wasn’t nearly as strong as that between their followers.
Maybe it was all just part of the act they had to keep up in front of everyone.
For now, neither brother wanted to be the one to tear the mask off first. They both willingly maintained the delicate balance between them.
“Eric, you’re here,” Solor said, glancing at his younger brother, then at the elderly man standing beside him.
The old man’s hair and beard were both white with age. Unlike the King, who looked frail and worn down, this man looked healthy and full of energy.
“Mr. Greya, you came too?”
“Haha, yes, of course. It’s about time again, isn’t it? I need to give His Majesty a check-up,” the old man replied.
The person Eric brought was Greya, the royal family’s long-time physician. He was kind, wise, and most importantly, neutral.
He was already old and just wanted a peaceful retirement. That’s why he didn’t cause trouble for anyone, and no one caused trouble for him. He quietly did his job and stayed out of politics.
“I bring Mr. Greya with me every so often,” Eric said with a cheerful smile, the complete opposite of Solor’s serious expression. “Today we’ll check on Father as usual. Did he take his medicine already?”
“He did,” Solor nodded. “But I think… Father’s real illness is still in his heart.”
“Haha, of course it is,” Eric chuckled, glancing at Solor, then at the old doctor behind him.
“Our dear Father just worries too much. Look at him, he stressed himself into illness. Mr. Greya, we’re counting on you to take good care of him.”
“Of course, Your Highnesses,” Greya replied warmly. “If both of you ask, I’ll certainly do my best.”
The two princes said nothing more and passed by each other.
But even if no more words were spoken, everything that needed to be said had already been said.