Chapter 186

Chapter 186. Lorandel, the Gilded Whirl

Lorandel, ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍the capital of the Southern Frontier.

This ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍magnificent city was built along the broad Dreamweave River.

The ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍river flowed like a shining ribbon, winding through the fertile plains of the Southern Frontier before finally connecting to the royal capital of Orlandia.

Lorandel ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was not only the most densely populated and commercially prosperous city in the Southern Frontier, but also the center of power that House Medici had operated for generations.

The ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍warm, humid climate granted this place uniquely favorable agricultural conditions.

The ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍crisscrossing network of waterways formed an efficient transport system, continuously carrying the grain produced in abundance by the Southern Frontier toward the Royal Domain and the Western Frontier, while also nourishing Orlandia’s enormous population.

At that moment, every riverside dock in Lorandel was bustling with unprecedented activity.

Work chants, shouted orders, and the dull thuds of boats bumping against the shore wove together into a noisy symphony.

Bare-chested laborers, drenched in sweat, were shouting rough work songs.

They carried heavy sacks on their shoulders, moving with steady, heavy steps, forming flowing transport lines between the docks and the moored cargo ships.

Those sacks were filled with plump grains, the generous gifts of the Southern Frontier’s land, and they were now being swiftly loaded onto cargo ships that already sat deep in the water.

“This way! Quickly! Move faster!”

“You lot over there! Did you not eat today? Put your backs into it! If you delay our important business, you cannot bear the consequences!”

Supervisors wove through the crowd, shouting reprimands to ensure the loading remained efficient.

Beside a relatively idle stacking point, a pair of laborers who were clearly father and son were taking advantage of a brief pause to rest.

The young son drank deeply from the water in his leather waterskin, then handed it to his father, who was panting heavily beside him.

“Old man.”

The young man wiped the water from the corner of his mouth and looked at the bustling scene before him, confusion on his face.

“The docks have not been this busy in a long time. This much grain... Is all of it being sent to Orlandia? Is there a famine over there?”

The father, whose hair had already begun to gray, took the waterskin and drank heavily as well. Then he tossed it back to his son and said in a muffled voice,

“Why worry about so much? Matters concerning those great figures above us are not for people like us to fret over.

“What we need to do is take this chance to work hard and earn more silver coins. That is what matters.”

He paused, then looked at his son, his tone taking on its usual note of urging.

“You are not young anymore either. Once you save enough money, it will be just right to find you a wife.”

The moment he heard the words “find you a wife,” the young man immediately seemed like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He scratched his head in distress and sighed.

“Old man, I do not want to get married. What is so good about marriage? And besides, what girl would like a poor brat like me?

“I have already decided. Once this busy period is over, I will go exploring downstream along the Dreamweave River with Remus and the others!

“I heard there are ancient ruins and sunken treasures down there! If I find them, our family will be rich!”

Hearing this, the old father let out a heavy sigh and straightened up on his weary knees.

He picked up the carrying pole leaning nearby and walked toward the busy docks, throwing out a sentence without even turning his head.

“Seems to me you still have not carried enough. You are not tired enough! All you do is daydream!

“Those legends are there to fool stupid boys like you! The lower Dreamweave River is full of undercurrents and whirlpools. Once you go down, you may never come back up! Follow me and work honestly!”

The youth followed his father’s steps unconvinced and argued, “How could that happen? It is not as if you do not know how good I am in the water! Hey, old man! Listen to me...”

Similar conversations and scenes of labor were playing out again and again across Lorandel’s many docks.

Ever since news that Federico La Roche, Duke of the Western Frontier and Regent of the Kingdom, had signed an alliance with House Medici returned through Marquess Bourbon’s letter,

Duke Hackson Medici had immediately begun fulfilling the first step of his promise: transporting grain on a massive scale to alleviate the food shortage in the royal capital and demonstrate the Southern Frontier’s strength and sincerity.

......

In contrast to the noise of the docks was the Medici Family castle—Medici Fortress—which stood high above the city, overlooking the Dreamweave River and all of Lorandel.

At the top of the fortress, inside Duke Hackson’s luxuriously decorated study, everything was currently in complete disorder.

Unlike the orderly bustle on the docks, an intense family storm was unfolding here.

Duke Hackson, the old man known as the ruler of the Southern Frontier and for his sinister ruthlessness, now had helplessness and exhaustion written all over his face.

He watched his most beloved youngest daughter, Isabella Medici, venting her rage wildly in his study like an enraged venomous serpent.

“Hackson Medici! You liar! What do you take me, your daughter, for? A piece of merchandise you can trade as you please?”

Isabella’s voice was shrill. She grabbed a gilded ink bottle from the desk, one that looked valuable at a glance, and smashed it hard onto the floor without even looking.

Splattered ink stained the expensive Oris wool carpet black.

“You clearly promised me before! You said you would let me choose my future husband!”

As she spoke, her gaze locked onto a colorful glazed porcelain piece from Rosha on a display shelf, and she made as if to go and lift it.

“Isabella! Calm yourself! This is disgraceful!”

Her elder brother, Robert Medici, the eldest son of the family, immediately stepped forward to stop her.

He was extraordinarily handsome, even carrying a faintly androgynous quality. Now, because of anxiety and anger, his cheeks were slightly flushed.

Had he not tried to persuade her, it might have been fine. But the moment he did, Isabella’s rage instantly turned on him.

“Heh!” Isabella stopped moving and looked Robert up and down with eyes full of mockery.

“My dear elder brother, Robert Medici! You really should put on the prettiest wig, change into the most gorgeous dress, and go pose in the city taverns!

“Perhaps you would be even more popular than the cheapest prostitutes! After all—”

She deliberately drew out her tone, then said viciously, “No matter how one looks at you, you are more like a woman than I am! Why not marry in my place, dear brother?”

Those deeply insulting words were like a poisoned dagger, stabbing directly into Robert’s sorest spot.

His handsome face instantly flushed crimson, veins bulging on his forehead. In utter fury, he raised his hand, about to slap Isabella.

“All of you, shut your mouths!”

Duke Hackson’s low and authoritative voice rang out.

He did not raise his volume, but the pressure of one long accustomed to authority instantly enveloped the entire room, forcibly stopping the impulsive Robert’s motion.

Hackson’s gaze fell on his youngest daughter. Within it was a decision that allowed no argument.

“Isabella, you are a woman of House Medici.

“You were born enjoying the supreme glory and luxurious life brought by this surname. But likewise, you must shoulder the responsibility that comes with it!

“A marriage alliance is your responsibility! You must go to Orlandia!”

“But Father, you said...” Isabella still wanted to argue, her eyes faintly reddening.

“Yes, Isabella. I did,” Hackson interrupted her, his tone softening somewhat.

“But I cannot control everything in this world. The situation has changed. Do not be willful. Besides...”

“He is the King. In name, the noblest man in the Kingdom of Orlando.

“You will become Queen! Your child will one day become the next king of the Kingdom of Orlando! When that time comes...”

“Child?” Isabella cut him off sharply, as if she had heard some absurd joke.

“King? That king of Orlandia, His Majesty Aiden Aurora, is himself a child!

“Father, are you asking me to go and become his mother? Heh—perhaps... that would not be so bad.”

Hackson continued looking at her calmly.

“I am sorry, Isabella. After you arrive in Orlandia, Marquess Bourbon will look after you. You are a Medici, and you will also be Queen. When that time comes, no one will be able to defy you.”

“Queen? I only hope I do not become the next Queen Irene, dying without explanation.”

After saying those almost curse-like words, Isabella no longer looked at her father or brother.

She forcefully shoved Robert, who stood in front of her, out of the way and rushed out of the study without looking back. The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind her with a loud bang.

Duke Hackson watched the direction in which his daughter vanished and sighed powerlessly.

He turned to his son, whose expression still looked ugly. “Robert, go...”

He had originally wanted Robert to check on his emotional sister, but when the words reached his lips, he remembered the terrible relationship between the siblings and swallowed them back.

He rubbed his brow and changed his words. “Go prepare everything necessary for the visit to the royal capital.

“When the time comes, you will go to Orlandia as the representative of House Medici in my stead and attend... your sister’s wedding.

“Remember, your every word and action will represent the dignity of House Medici and the entire Southern Frontier. Do not disgrace us.”

Robert took several deep breaths and barely suppressed the humiliation and anger in his heart.

He lowered his head respectfully. “Yes, Father. I will handle it properly.”

After Robert also left the study, the room finally returned to silence, leaving only the mess across the floor and the smell of gunpowder lingering in the air.

Duke Hackson sat back alone into his wide and comfortable high-backed chair.

He looked around the room his daughter had smashed into disorder, his gaze sweeping over the shattered treasures and stained carpet. A trace of heartache flashed across his face, but even more than that, there was a deep exhaustion.

Whether in commerce or in political games, he could handle everything with ease.

Only when dealing with his children did he always seem so clumsy and such a failure.

Whether it was Robert, Isabella, or... Sabda.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, as though he wanted to shut out all the disturbances of the world.

Only after a long time did he open them again. Out of habit, he took a beautifully minted gold coin from the drawer of his desk.

He lightly flicked the coin upward. The gold coin traced a golden arc through the air, then landed on the smooth tabletop with a crisp ding.

The coin did not immediately come to rest. Driven by its remaining momentum, it slowly spun on its own...

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