Burn summoned every physi he could gather, showg his impressive array of medial ingredients. Eae was not just rare, but practically legendary—vanishing for over a hundred years between sightings. Some items might as well have e straight from the pages of myth.

  The physis gazed at this colle of rare treasures as if they were on a treasure hunt, reveling in its absurdity.

  Burn procimed, “Any additional ingredient you desire will be graciously supplied by this kingdom. Just utter the name, and I’ll have it delivered.”

  “Anyone capable of healing His Majesty will earn a le, plete with a territory to call their own. Oh, and I’ll throw in a personal reward from my own funds,” Burn cluded.

  “Yes, Yhness!”

  Burhem talk, hands flying in a flurry of panid excitement while he ambled away.

  He took and of the corridors like a fire drill was in full swing, although it was amusingly peculiar that only he seemed to grasp the actual urgency.

  Yes, his words had power—power to stir a crowd or send a shiver down their spines. But even he wouldn’t dare to pull back the curtain on the profound threat lurking over the King’s life.

  If the wot out that a mysterious, incurable illness had cimed the King, the delicate bahe old man had toiled to maintain his entire life would e crashing down. Splendid.

  He’d seen the shadows lurking—the kind that hinted death could stumble upon the King uninvited

  Just a few more years… that’s all he asked. Not that he was unprepared to shoulder the weight of the —no, he was very much ready at this juncture—but what’s a few years in the grand scheme of things? Dear death, it was hardly a crime to want just a smidgen more time!

  To fix everything.

  Burn g to that tenuous thread—blood or burden, who could tell? But yes! Why couldn’t he hang on that sihread of a bloodkin e he had longed for sihe break of his sciousness? Burhat someone like him would never deserve it. Yet he sought, and sought, and sought.

  All he had was himself and his mortality. The path of survival he trudged upon was an abyss of desotion, but just when this state had started to stabilize, that ce was taken away from him again.

  Like how mortality took motherhood from Viviane, robbing him of the ce to extend her a hand of redemption.

  For once, he wanted his father to uand him. For once, he wao give him a ce to be his father... his real father.

  Walking toward the king’s chamber, he beheld his father’s form, now resembling a wilted old tree—fragile, sagging. When had his once-mighty father bee so weak? Just a few days ago, he had presided over the pace baly talking with him—

  “Yhness,” a voice called, snapping him from his reverie.

  Burn turned, spotting the dark gray haired young man with a grin wide enough to charm the silver off a spoon: Young Duke Aroche Leodegrance.

  “Roche,” Burn raised his eyebrows, remembering that this was the same charming fool of a big brother often seen orbiting Burn’s ex-fiancée Landevale, just like now, walking with his ever-ear knight, Gahad. “Where is t?”

  Aroche shrugged, his smile dimming ever so slightly. “Even I, his so-called best buddy, ’t drag him back. Is it that dire?”

  “No,” Burn replied, “Father will be just fine.”

  Aroche tilted his head, “That’s precisely why he’s avoiding you. Unless…” His voice trailed off, trailing his thoughts like a lost puppy.

  He searched Burn’s eyes for the truth. Suddenly, crity struck—like a knight being reminded of the words ‘duty’ and ‘honor.’ “Tell me the truth, Burn. Is it grim?”

  Burn’s gaze shifted to Gahad, who was noardly pulling Landevale away like she was some kind of votile explosive. With the two friends left in their own little bubble of reality, the silence spoke volumes.

  “I’ll g him back, alright?” Aroche decred, his bravado rising to the occasion, but Burn’s voice cut through with the sharpness of a well-honed dagger.

  “No,” Burn said with a tone low enough to make a grave whisper seem loud. “Let him be.”

  “Let him be… It’s your perpetual dance, isn’t it? You old soul, always bending to your indifferent older brother. Sometimes, I’m pelled to think you might as well be the elder,” Aroche quipped.

  “Must I reiterate why my name means little in his eyes? Again?” Burn replied, a hint of weariness g his voice.

  “Precisely, you bastard,” Aroche clicked his toh exaggerated disdain. “Fug piece of shit, just take my sister bad get married.”

  Burn’s eyes narrowed. “She’s the one eager to join the round table, to carve her owiny.”

  “Well, it’s hardly insurmountable to be a knight and your wife at the same time,” Aroche shrugged nontly. “Remember whe was e you for breaking off yagement? Fantastitertai.”

  “And why should she be tethered by my title? aruly embody the spirit of a knight while serving as the Prince’s or?” Burn challenged, frustration sharp in his tone. “So why does he fail to grasp this?”

  “Did you fet your method of severing the retionship?!” Aroche yelled. “You sent my sister away to a dangerous expedition while you threw a wild ba with the nobles, your men and some random unmarried noblewomen!”

  Burn frowned. “I already told her beforehand, and I sent Gahad with her.”

  “Unlike you, your brother gs to traditions and promises as if they’re divine scriptures,” Aroche pushed back.

  “Ah, yes, whily emphasizes his disdain for me—a bastard aspiring toward the throne,” Burn replied coldly.

  “Burn, sider this,” Aroche sighed, shaking his head. “Your blustery approach, wielding brute force as your sword, will eliothing but loathing. Especially from someone like your brother.”

  “Ever heard of the saying, ‘the wisdom of the strong’? Perhaps it’s time you did,” Burn sneered, a raze to his tone.

  “Ah, a sage ae indeed. Fug bitch. One day, you’ll stir the pot enough to see what emerges,” Aroche cursed.

  “As if there’s someoually crazy enough to mess up the pot I stirred?” Burn clicked his tongue. “Not even Arthur Pendragon do anything against me.”

  Aroche didn’t say anything. Burn was essentially right. This friend of his wasn’t oo be defeated. He sighed and nodded, his presence here within the pace, “I’ll stay here with you and help.”

  Burn raised his eyebrows at him, and to tell the truth, right now, Aroche was more of a brother than a friend, even more than his own brother.

  “It’s good that you’re idle,” Burn smirked.

  “Oh, shut up!”

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  Hello, guys, I'm back... :''''D

  I've been offline for these two weeks, partly because of how busy it's been with family matters and school, but more than that, because I just lost my cat. Hopefully, he's not dead, just out there somewhere. Please e back, my son :''''''''''''

  Soon, I'll begin my internship, though it's not a paid one, just one required for me to graduate with my degree. I'll o go to the movies every week, write a critique of it, and also record podcasts and some short videos.

  Maybe if some go viral, you'll see me on YouTube :'v BUT DON'T LOOK FORWARD TO IT, AND I WON'T TELL YOU HOW TO FIND IT :v As for updates, I'll do my best to keep up with them, I promise. It might not be as often as it used to be, but let's see what works best for us.

  Thanks for waiting, and enjoy reading!