Chapter 68: The King’s Coercive Invitation

Due to Maxon’s intervention, Scott abandoned his plans to attend the center with Ethan, though he did not give up on his Guide training. Enoch had secretly hoped that Scott, who seemed determined to do everything alongside Ethan, would eventually meet him and reconsider his training, whether it was through Huey or at the center.

However, with no other recourse, Enoch reluctantly requested his brother, Huey Cloud, to assign a supervisor for Scott Kent’s Guide training. He reasoned that a more secluded, in-house training would be preferable to Scott interacting with numerous people at the center or potentially encountering Devon Green.

Moreover, Enoch secretly believed that while Huey Cloud would be the general supervisor, his busy schedule would prevent him from personally overseeing Scott’s education.

“Why are you here, brother?” Enoch’s face contorted into a deep frown.

Huey Cloud merely looked at him, as if Enoch had posed the most peculiar question. “I was under the impression you were the one who requested Scott Kent’s Guide training from me.”

“Hah,” Enoch scoffed, a hollow laugh escaping him. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Is that so? Then, I suppose I’ll be observing this training from now on.”

“…As you wish.”

Huey Cloud’s surprisingly swift agreement caused Scott’s tightly wound shoulders, which had been pressed against Enoch in trepidation, to finally slacken. He had, after all, heard countless times that Huey Cloud found it difficult to utilize his abilities properly when three or more individuals were present.

“Don’t you dare touch Scott.”

At Enoch’s sharp warning, Huey simply raised a hand, a pristine white glove covering it. “I’m always mindful.”

‘Ah, so he can’t directly touch me and read my thoughts while wearing gloves?’ Scott mused, feeling a profound sense of calm settle over him. Enoch, observing Scott’s relief, allowed a subtle smirk to play on his lips.

“Wearing gloves to put people at ease is a decent tactic, but you should save that act for those who don’t know you well, brother. Those gloves are merely for show.”

Huey offered a twisted smile and gestured towards Scott with his chin. “Even if I claim I won’t carelessly read him, you’ll still treat me like a disease, so let’s just begin the lesson. And let me be clear, Enoch, if you utter a single word of nonsense during this training, I will not remain silent. So, observe in peace.”

It was of no consequence. Ultimately, it was Wendy’s role to unsettle Scott, not his own.

Huey calmly displayed the introductory section of Guide training and commenced his textbook-like, utterly tedious explanation.

****

“An audience to discuss the public matching test schedule, then…”

Bliss glared at the costly paper, its surface adorned with elegant script. Chris, the King’s chamberlain, offered his explanation with an impeccably composed expression. “It seems His Majesty the King harbors a desire to meet Lord Ethan Prescott, who has, understandably, become the talk of the realm.”

“Hah, so this is his way of humiliating us, by demanding we publicly announce an internal family affair?”

When Bliss declared that forcing a grand noble family’s private event into the public sphere was tantamount to an insult, the strikingly handsome chamberlain, a man whose age was impossible to ascertain, offered a placating smile.

“How could His Majesty possibly seek to disgrace a family so devoted to the Empire? Rather, the matter has garnered such excessive public attention that it has become imperative to demonstrate its legitimacy to ensure the Spring Flower Festival preparations proceed without a hitch. Furthermore,”

The chamberlain paused, his gaze locking with Bliss’s, before he slowly continued. “He believes that the Moore family, being nobles who guide Aitoolia, would not interpret His Majesty’s request as an affront.”

It was a stark reminder: no matter the Moore family’s power, they ultimately stood beneath the King. To refuse this ‘request’ would be tantamount to an act of rebellion against the crown.

Watching the chamberlain depart with a final, “We shall meet soon at the palace,” Bliss crumpled the archaic letter, which bore King Genoa’s distinct signature and seal. He then immediately summoned Philip and Kyle.

“You called for us?”

“Are there any new reports from Doctor Sera?”

Philip, who had been searching his tablet for Violet’s Guide, instead opened Doctor Sera’s report—a document compiled during her stay and investigation in Morapolio City—and connected it to Bliss’s monitor.

“As Lord Enoch indicated, some facilities at the Morapolio City center were indeed shut down approximately fifty years ago, by order of the former king. Considering Princess Anna Green’s order for Esper items, this closure occurred long after her order date, suggesting it was a measure taken following her disappearance.”

“Can we find absolutely nothing about the princess’s other three Espers?”

Philip shook his head. “We are actively searching, but there’s an alarming amount of lost or altered data.”

“…At the very least, this suggests Devon Green might possess more than just three Espers.”

“During wartime, it would have been far more advantageous to conceal their true number,” Kyle interjected.

Philip tilted his head, a frown creasing his brow. “But it isn’t wartime now, so why would His Highness Devon conceal the number of Espers? Su-surely…”

He trailed off, seemingly startled by his own implication, as Kyle let out a scoff and delivered a chilling, if half-joking, remark. “Perhaps he intends to incite a war?”

“It’s a well-known fact that His Highness Devon harbors a keen interest in wars of conquest. Internally, he champions the Empire’s commoners and advocates for moderate, Guide-first policies, yet externally, he aims to drive Espers onto the battlefield.”

Bliss, his gaze unwavering on the monitor, merely half-listened to their exchange, his brows deeply furrowed in thought. Why would Devon, who seemed so far removed from any military prowess, deliberately obscure the true number of his own Espers?

“Should we share this with Lord Ethan? You did mention to him directly that Princess Anna Green appeared to be missing, not deceased, didn’t you?” Kyle inquired.

Bliss shook his head. “It’s not a detail fully corroborated by cross-referencing files and books. I merely mentioned it in passing, knowing his keen interest in Imperial history.”

“Then shouldn’t we seek Lord Ethan’s opinion? He might offer a completely fresh perspective.”

Bliss knew this to be true. He had already resolved to share the information, a subtle hint dropped with the precise intention of drawing Ethan deeper into the intrigue. If he were to reveal their current discoveries, Ethan might indeed provide an entirely new direction from his unique viewpoint.

Yet, his Esper instincts bristled at the abstract numbers. The fact that Princess Anna Green had possessed eight Espers, and that Ethan was surrounded by eight ‘bastard ghosts.’ And, whether by sheer coincidence or not, both were multi-Guides.

With a small sigh of profound frustration, he turned his head towards Kyle. “Have we managed to catch the traitor in Riga?”

****

The day they journeyed to the royal palace was as dreary as the weather itself. Ethan watched the spring rain outside the window, finding the landscape to perfectly mirror his own somber mood.

“I truly don’t wish to set foot in the palace again. And why are we so heavily escorted?”

Vehicles, emblazoned with the snowflake insignia of the Betelgeuse Royal Guard, flanked their car, maintaining precise distances both ahead and behind. As they glided smoothly along the moving rails, a torrent of gazes fixed upon their procession.

“Because the King himself sent a formal letter of invitation.”

Bliss, evidently far from pleased, maintained a grim, unyielding expression. It was a coercive invitation, yet the King presented such a grand procession—a spectacle designed to preserve the dignity of a great noble family. This elaborate display was clearly intended to sway public opinion among imperial citizens and nobles, preempting any future protests from the Moore family.

“Lieutenant Colonel Arthur Swan finally gave us a proper greeting today.”

“Sending even the Commander-in-Chief of the Royal Guard implies the King has extended all due courtesy, I suppose.”

Ethan let out a protracted sigh. “It feels as though we’re walking directly into the mouth of a beast…”

“It is no illusion.”

At Bliss’s blunt assertion, Ethan regarded him with a hint of weary exasperation. “His Highness Herace and His Highness Devon were hardly easy to contend with, but the King must be even more formidable, wouldn’t you agree? Seriously, what ailment could possibly plague a man who resorts to such machinations, that he’s constantly in convalescence?”

Bliss hesitated for a moment, carefully considering his words, before he finally spoke. “It’s an illness that arose from not having a matching Guide for far too long after the Queen’s passing. After the early loss of the Queen, with whom he shared a 32% matching rate connection, he reportedly sustained himself solely through temporary guiding from concubines whose compatibility barely reached 30%. This, apparently, caused his energy flow to become severely twisted.”

Ethan’s mouth fell open in disbelief. The Queen’s perpetually vacant position had always fueled rumors of the King’s profound and unwavering love for her, yet the reality, as painted by Bliss, was starkly different. If Bliss’s words were true, the King had indiscriminately brought any compatible Guide, barely reaching a 30% match through physical intimacy, into his harem, indulging in what could only be described as ‘unfettered free love.’

“…Then, Lord Enoch as well…”

“His energy twisted? Honestly, I’ve never encountered a case quite like it, so I cannot say for certain. However, Enoch claims it occurred because he attempted to sustain himself with temporary guiding after his connection with a matching Guide was severed. He believes it doesn’t concern him, as he never had a matching Guide to begin with.”

“…So, the notion of Espers dying without a Guide was merely a tale for commoners, then.”

‘Damn this world,’ Ethan muttered under his breath. Bliss offered a wry, bitter smile.

“Now, with his chamberlain having become his matching Guide, his pain has certainly diminished. Yet, he still collapses occasionally, even when otherwise stable. Doctors had predicted he had little time left. Nonetheless, when you encounter him today, you will likely be astonished by his surprisingly normal appearance.”

“The chamberlain?”

“He reportedly met him by chance during an inspection tour in another autonomous region. A matching rate exceeding 50%.”

“…!!!”

The car, having finally entered the palace grounds, came to a halt at a parking center, offering a clear vista of the sprawling main palace.

“From this point, you must proceed on foot.”

Outside the automatically opening door, Arthur Swan stood waiting to guide them.

“I truly never wanted to set foot in the palace again. And now, here I am, walking in of my own volition.”

At Ethan’s lament, Arthur Swan extended a hand. While it was a gesture of protocol, the subtle curve in his eyes as he regarded Ethan suggested he recalled the events of the banquet. Reputed to be from a collateral branch of the Moore family, he possessed sky-blue eyes, as if Bliss’s deep azure had been diluted. As an Esper capable of wielding the Empire’s most formidable shields and hardest ice, his presence was undeniably captivating.

“I will take him.”

Bliss intercepted Ethan’s outstretched hand, leaving Arthur Swan’s hand hanging awkwardly. “Bliss.”

Ethan chided him as they walked through the wide corridor, but Bliss paid him no mind, intertwining their fingers. With his other hand, he pointed at Arthur Swan’s back, who was leading the way. “That’s not me. Don’t give anyone those eyes just because they look a little similar.”

Arthur Swan’s shoulders twitched perceptibly as he guided them.

“No, he’s not that similar…”

Ethan mumbled, prompting Bliss to emphasize again. “That’s a man who’s having an affair within the Royal Guard.”

“…Brother.”

Lieutenant Colonel Arthur Swan, who was on official duty, gritted his teeth and restrained Bliss through ventriloquism.

‘We shall see.’ With Arthur Swan’s silent vow, the magnificent doors swung open.

Seated on the highest chair, between Herace and Devon Green, King Genoa awaited their salutations. Several nobles below them cast glances filled with gleaming curiosity and mixed desires.

“Lord Bliss Moore of the Moore family, and my consort, Ethan Prescott, offer their greetings.”

“Consort?!”

“Consort!”

The nobles sprang to their feet. Herace and Devon also looked utterly astonished.

Ethan, too, was startled to find a ring suddenly adorning his finger. ‘Wait, when did this happen?!’

“Aren’t we supposed to be married?”

Bliss asked, gently smoothing Ethan’s hair with the hand that also bore a matching ring. Ethan stared intently at the identical ring on his own finger, muttering, “No, I mean, yes, but…”

“Does this mean the family elders have already given their consent!”

Devon’s sharp voice cut through the air, as if such a thing were utterly impossible.

[Wow. So you can be completely snookered like this. What are family elders, anyway? It’s over once the King gives his direct approval.]

Even Dongja, who had been nervously anticipating the King’s presence, added in a bewildered mumble, [Ethan, is Bliss actually smarter than you?]

“……”

Ethan felt as if he could hear the distant caw of a crow.