"A prince?" Jian repeated, his voice flat as he stared at them.
He peered closer at their faces, watching carefully for any hint that this might be some kind of joke, a misunderstanding, or worse—a manipulation.
His gaze moved from one bowed head to the next, lingering briefly on each unfamiliar expression.
But it didn't seem to be the case.
All three men were on one knee, heads slightly bowed, their postures full of deference. Reverence, even. Their movements were calculated but respectful, hands resting lightly on their thighs, not a single twitch of aggression or arrogance among them. Even the youngest, who looked like he couldn't be older than twenty, held himself with a quiet sort of awe that didn't seem rehearsed.
That kind of sincerity couldn't be faked.
Jian tightened his grip on his sword.
I was a lost prince?
The thought sank in slowly.
So… I wasn't left behind on Earth because I wasn't needed?
