Lee tugged at the collar of his silk tunic, the fabric smoother than anything he'd ever worn, but it felt like a costume, too fancy for someone like him. The intricate gold embroidery on the sleeves caught the chandelier's light as he walked through the palace's marble corridors, Lara trailing a step behind. Her armor clinked softly, her spear held loosely but ready, her dark curls bouncing with each confident stride. Lee's stomach churned with nerves about meeting the king.
He wanted to ask Lara what the guy was like, stern? Kind? A total jerk? But every question felt like a risk. If he asked too much, she might start side-eyeing him, wondering why a prince didn't know his own dad. He could lie, claim the poison wiped his memory clean, but that felt like a nuclear option, a last resort that could backfire. For now, he'd play it safe, keep his mouth shut, and watch everyone like a hawk. Observe, don't react, that was the plan.
The dining hall loomed ahead, its double doors carved with roaring lions and gilded vines. Two guards in polished armor pushed them open, revealing a long table draped in crimson cloth, set with gold plates and goblets that screamed wealth. The king was already there, seated at the head, a short man with a thick brown beard that looked like it could hide a small bird.
His long brown hair was tied back, streaked with hints of gray, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled at Lee's entrance. "My boy!" he boomed, his voice warm but commanding, like he was used to people listening. "How are you, Lee?"
Lee forced a shaky smile, his heart doing a nervous tap-dance. "I'm fine, Your Majesty," he said, his voice wobbling just enough to make him cringe. He glanced at Lara, who gave a subtle nod before stepping back to join the other guards outside, her spear glinting as the doors closed behind her. Lee was on his own now. He slid into the chair at the opposite end of the table, the polished wood cool under his palms, feeling like he was miles away from the king despite the table's length.
The king snapped his fingers, and a trio of aides bustled in, their trays loaded with steaming dishes, roasted pheasant, glazed vegetables, and bread so fresh it smelled like heaven. Lee's mouth watered, but he kept his movements slow, mimicking the king's casual confidence as they ate. The king's fork clinked against his plate as he leaned forward, his brown eyes studying Lee. "So, how are you feeling?" he asked, his tone light but probing. "Any lingering effects from that nasty poison? Still feel it in your system?"
Lee swallowed a bite of pheasant, the rich flavor almost distracting him from his nerves. "Nah, I'm good," he said, trying to sound chill. "Pretty sure the poison's out. I feel… normal."
The king nodded, stroking his beard. "Good, good. I can't imagine who'd want to poison you." He paused, then chuckled, his laugh deep and hearty. "Especially since you're not particularly special or brimming with exceptional talent, eh?" He slapped the table, clearly amused by his own joke.
Lee forced a laugh, his lips twitching into a weak grin, but the words stung like a slap. Not special? No talent? Even here, in this fancy palace with his prince status, he was still just the guy on the bench, overlooked and underestimated. The king kept laughing, oblivious to the way Lee's fingers tightened around his goblet, his knuckles whitening. He wanted to say something, to prove he wasn't some nobody, but he bit his tongue. Observe, don't react.
The king's expression sobered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Be vigilant, Lee," he said, his voice low and serious. "As a prince, you'll have enemies. You need to outlast them, outsmart them. I've had the chefs and kitchen staff from that day thrown in the dungeons, just to be safe."
Lee's stomach twisted. Innocent people, locked up because of the queen's scheming? He wanted to blurt out that she was the real culprit, but Lara's warning about treason echoed in his head. He nodded instead, keeping his face neutral. "Got it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of small talk and clinking silverware, but Lee's mind was elsewhere, stuck on the injustice of it all.
***
The next morning, Lee was jolted awake by Lara's voice, sharp and insistent. "Get up, Your Highness, or we'll be late for the academy!" She stood over his bed, her spear resting on her shoulder, her dark eyes glinting with impatience. Lee groaned, pulling the silk sheets over his head. "What are you, my guard or my chaperone?" he mumbled, his voice muffled.
Bonk. The blunt handle of her spear tapped his head, not hard, but enough to make him yelp. "Move it," she said, her tone half-annoyed, half-teasing, like she was used to dragging him out of bed.
Lee grumbled, rolling out of bed with all the enthusiasm of a kid heading to detention. As he shuffled to the bathroom, the warm marble floor cool under his feet, he wondered about the old Lee's relationship with Lara.
She acted all bossy and protective, but there was a warmth to it, like she actually cared. Had they always been like this? He wished he had the guy's memories to know for sure. Shaking his head, he stepped into the steamy bathroom, the tub already filled with fragrant water, and scrubbed himself clean, trying to psych himself up for whatever this "academy" was.
Outside the palace, the morning air was crisp, the cobblestone courtyard bustling with activity. Carriages lined up, their horses snorting, and Lee's eyes widened as he spotted his stepsister, Dina, the girl who'd slapped him yesterday, rushing toward him. Her green eyes sparkled with concern, like she'd completely forgotten the whole "perv" incident.
She bent down, peering into his eyes, her fingers brushing his cheek as she checked his palpebral pallor. "You're okay now, right?" she asked, her voice soft and worried. "You had me so scared, Lee."
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, his face heating up as she ruffled his hair like he was a kid. She smiled, all warmth and affection, before hurrying to her own carriage, her skirts swishing. Lee watched her go, his chest tight with a mix of confusion and something softer. Was this what having a sister was like? He didn't have time to dwell on it as Lara nudged him toward a sleek black carriage, its gold trim gleaming in the sunlight.
The ride to the academy was bumpy, the leather seats creaking as Lee stared out the window, watching the sprawling city give way to a massive campus of stone towers and manicured lawns. The academy was no joke, a training ground for noble kids, from princes to earls, plus a few non-nobles who'd clawed their way in with raw talent.
It was all about mastering skills to become warriors or leaders, maybe even knights. Lee's palms were sweaty. He didn't know jack about fighting or leading, and he definitely wasn't ready to fake it in a place crawling with elite kids.
He stepped out of the carriage, Lara at his side, and started walking, keeping one eye on her to mimic her confident stride. He tried to act like he knew where he was going, but the academy's sprawling courtyard, with its statues and fountains, was overwhelming. Lara stopped abruptly, turning to him. "I'm heading to my classes," she said, pointing down a path. "Yours are that way. Don't be late."
Lee's heart sank. Alone? Now what? He nodded, trying to look cool, but his mind was racing. He started walking, pretending he knew the way, when someone slammed into him from behind. He stumbled, nearly face-planting on the cobblestones, his arms flailing as he caught his balance.