The duke’s children arrived exactly as Mother predicted.

  They came escorted by a heavily armed guard. The soldiers wore heavy mail hauberks, iron helmets, large tear-shaped shields, and oak spears with steel tips—nothing like the peasant pikes that could barely stay upright.

  A full hundred men reached my walls, and as host, it was my duty to house them. I let the troops use the barracks rooms so they could keep up their training routines with my garrison.

  The children were a different matter.

  The first was an eleven-year-old boy with brown hair and brown eyes. He was noticeably overweight, and because of that his cheeks looked like enormous balloons. He didn’t look cheerful at all, and only lowered his head to me out of courtesy.

  “Your Majesty and Queen Regent, a pleasure.” The boy’s shrill, timid voice left me with a weak first impression.

  His sister, on the other hand, stepped forward and gave a proper greeting.

  “Thank you for taking us in.” She was slender, pale-skinned, with gray hair. She wore a black skirt embroidered with yellow patterns that resembled a garden of flowers. Her dark, ordinary eyes carried an excessive confidence. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  “The pleasure is all ours. The king will show you the castle while I handle the paperwork.” Girasol turned to me and, without hesitation, dropped the responsibility in my lap.

  These two children had inefficient attitudes, and it was now in my hands to guide them toward virtue. First, I needed to know them—and decide what, exactly, I was dealing with.

  “This way.”

  The three of us walked along the palace corridors. Every guard and servant offered them polite bows, given their noble status. As a duke’s children, they’d grown up with enormous privilege—and neglect—since they were the youngest siblings.

  “Acceptable servants, I suppose.” The girl made the rude remark casually. That alone told me plenty about her.

  “What’s your name?”

  “I am Yuka Black Vase, of the most important dynasty in the Kingdom of Etrica. My ancestors trace back to the mythical age, so address me with the respect I’m due, Your Majesty.”

  “Very well, Yuka Black Vase. I hope your stay in my castle is pleasant. We’ll make sure you receive the best education possible.”

  “I expect nothing less.”

  “And you?” I addressed the boy. He quickly dipped his head, looking annoyed, embarrassed, and mildly irritated.

  “I’m Ronaldo Black Vase.” Dry. No extra words. No emotion. He didn’t seem happy to be in my palace.

  “I hope you enjoy your time here, Ronaldo.”

  “Yeah.”

  His shyness wasn’t like Ingrid Wall’s. Ingrid behaved that way because of lifelong abuse. This boy—my first impression—was timid for different reasons I didn’t yet understand.

  Yuka and Ronaldo.

  My two new problems.

  As we kept walking, we ran into Ingrid and Alda.

  They were coming back from lessons with Gonzalo. The white-haired girl smiled despite the embarrassment of meeting new people. Alda, on the other hand, nearly launched herself at them, grinning ear to ear.

  “G-Good day,” Ingrid murmured.

  “New friends!” Alda exclaimed, overflowing with enthusiasm.

  Unfortunately, what happened next shattered my expectations completely.

  “And who do you think you are, bastard daughter.”

  Ah, fuck.

  She said the forbidden word. Yuka looked at my sister with genuine disgust—this wasn’t the usual childish dislike I expected.

  It was real hatred. A sharp contempt with an intensity only adults seemed capable of.

  Alda’s smile vanished instantly.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  Ingrid lowered her head and swallowed her words.

  Could this meeting have gone any worse?

  “What did you call me?” Alda wasn’t easy to anger, but the way she was looked at—and the fact that the insult targeted Ingrid too—made her snap fast.

  “Besides being illegitimate, you’re deaf. Your kind disgusts me. Your Majesty, why do you associate with this trash? A king should surround himself only with the highest nobility.” Yuka stepped forward and faced my half-sister with arrogance. “But I’ll repeat it… bastard. You too, and that girl as well.”

  “Watch your tongue. You’re speaking to the king’s fiancée.” Alda stepped in close too, the two girls showing open hostility, face to face. Meanwhile Ingrid and Ronaldo watched from behind, silent witnesses to the pathetic spectacle.

  “A fiancée used to mock our kingdom. Why should I respect a foreigner with no lands, whose only purpose is to screw over Etrica?” Despite her age, Yuka’s speech was far too developed—it felt like talking to a grown woman. “You’re both pathetic. Don’t speak to me.”

  “I-I was just trying to be friendly. You don’t have to act like that.” Alda took a deep breath to keep from exploding. She hated being insulted without a chance to prove herself. “Apologize to us.”

  “No.”

  “At least apologize to Ingrid. She hasn’t done anything to you.”

  “I won’t apologize to anyone. Damn it, know your place.”

  Alright. Enough.

  I stepped forward, darkened my expression, and placed myself between them.

  “I’ve heard enough, Yuka. While you’re in my castle, you will follow my rules. I don’t give a damn how society works out there—here, we don’t say the word ‘bastard.’ I’ll let it go once because of your noble blood, but if I hear that damn word again, I’ll hit you in the face myself and knock out those damn teeth. Do you understand me?”

  The boy tried to defend his sister, but I gave him a glare so sharp he immediately stepped back.

  “Got something to say, Ronaldo?”

  “I-I… you can’t talk to my sister like that.”

  “Of course I can. Or are you going to stop me? Let’s go to the training yard and see if you actually have balls, asshole.”

  My Mexican side burst out again. My behavior shocked Ingrid and Alda—but Yuka didn’t look surprised at all.

  She was used to tantrums.

  “You are a king, but you have to treat me with respect. I’m not some petty wretch like those two. Brother, defend my honor.”

  “U-Um… I-I…” The poor kid was scared out of his mind. I almost felt sorry for him, but he’d made the mistake of defending bad behavior.

  And he knew it.

  He knew his sister was in the wrong—yet instinctively opened his mouth anyway.

  “What’s wrong, brother? You’re not going to defend me? You’re bigger and stronger than this brat. Ulric isn’t king yet—he hasn’t been crowned. While he’s still a child, technically he isn’t our sovereign. Don’t be afraid. Fight him.”

  Ah, damn girl.

  She had Ronaldo in the palm of her hand.

  And I needed to see this boy’s martial ability, one way or another.

  “O-Okay… let’s go…”

  Alda and Ingrid said nothing. They followed us to the training yard, where we took two wooden swords and stood three meters apart.

  The moment I saw Ronaldo holding the weapon, I understood immediately: he had no talent.

  His hands shook, his eyes stayed on the ground instead of my shoulders.

  “Look me in the eyes,” I demanded. “You get the first move.”

  “A-And… what if I apologize instead? I don’t like violence. I think it’s unnecessary.”

  “Too late,” I said flatly. “If you’d kept quiet, you wouldn’t have forced this. Your sister needs to learn to measure her mouth—or the people close to her will suffer.”

  “And why should I care?” Yuka scoffed. “My brother is a useless fat idiot. I don’t mind if you beat him up—maybe he’ll finally become a man. Besides, it’s family duty to protect the honor of good girls like me, right, Ronaldo?” Yuka’s unhinged smile told me just how wrong in the head she was.

  This brat had been raised very differently.

  Or was I the exception?

  Were older nobles really this lacking in empathy?

  “Take back your words, King Ulric…” For the love of God—this could not get worse.

  The kid’s legs were trembling noodles, his sweaty neck could rival the ocean. He wasn’t even gripping the handle properly, and the weight of the practice sword looked like it might drag him down any second.

  He was bulkier and stronger than me, technically.

  But his courage was that of a newborn kitten.

  “Fine,” I said. “Let’s fight.”

  I tightened my grip and waited for Ronaldo to attack.

  The chubby boy rushed at me, his training sword nearly slipping from his fingers. I sidestepped easily, then immediately aimed for his head—

  “No! Brother!” Alda shouted right before I cracked his skull.

  I stopped the wooden blade a few centimeters from his forehead.

  “This is absurd,” Alda said, voice tight. “He shouldn’t suffer because of his sister’s behavior.”

  “Y-Yes, Ulric,” Ingrid added softly. “Don’t hurt him. He’s only trying to keep family honor.”

  But instead of showing gratitude, Ronaldo dropped the sword and turned his back on us.

  “Meh. This isn’t fun. Can you be any more pathetic? The men of House Black Vase have been ruthless warriors since the mythical age. I feel sorry for our ancestors.”

  “Damn it…”

  And without another word, Ronaldo ran out of the training yard.

  He didn’t thank my friends.

  What a cowardly, ungrateful little shit.

  “Not bad, King Ulric. Maybe you do have the makings of a king after all.” Yuka’s smile widened, smug and fearless. “But you won’t force me to respect those two idiots. If you want that, you’ll have to do it with strength.”

  “You will respect them, whether you like it or not.”

  Yuka also left the yard with that victorious grin still on her lips.

  Fuck.

  What kind of mess had I stepped into?

  Mother was right. Correcting these two will be a titanic task—one that will surely raise my leadership level.

  “You okay, brother?” Alda placed a hand on my right shoulder. Ingrid did the same on my left.

  “Ulric… are you okay? I’ve never seen you so angry.”

  “Yeah. Sorry you had to see that. It’s just… Yuka’s attitude is exactly the kind of thing I can’t stand.” I let out a long sigh and rubbed my face.

  There was too much work to do—and I had no idea where to start.

  Whose fault was it?

  The duke’s, for not raising them properly?

  Mine, for not accepting reality?

  Pointing fingers was useless now. I needed solutions—effective ones.

  I stayed silent for a moment while Alda and Ingrid kept watching me with real concern.

  “Thanks for defending us, brother,” Alda said quietly. “I’m sorry we couldn’t do much to help you…”

  “No, Alda. You don’t have anything to thank me for. It’s my duty as sovereign to keep you safe in my castle. Yuka is wrong, and I’ll prove it to her— I just need time.”