"What’s wrong? Why are you both so quiet now?"
That’s what Florian wanted to ask the two dukes—Alexandrius and Alaric—who had spent the better part of the evening running their mouths with reckless abandon. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Heinz, but if there was one rule in this world that he refused to break, it was this:
Never talk shit about the king at his own party.
The once-lively atmosphere of the ball now teetered on the edge of collapse. Laughter had faded into hushed tension, the elegant waltz had co to an awkward halt, and the air, once buzzing with conversation, now felt thick—like a storm was brewing just beneath the gilded chandeliers.
All because these two fools had refused to hold their tongues.
Even the other ducal houses had fallen silent.
Florian could feel the shift, but more importantly, so could the citizens of Concordia. After all, they were the only ones who could sense magic.
Unlike him.
Unlike the princesses.
His gaze flickered to Alexandrius and Alaric, their previously smug expressions now wiped clean. Their aging faces, once so full of bravado, were taut with sothing dangerously close to fear.
’They look terrified.’
Even Lucius and Lancelot—both of whom were used to Heinz’s presence—seed uneasy. And they were on his side.
Florian, on the other hand?
’I just need to wait for the right mont to slip away.’
"Well?"
A single word, spoken in a voice both smooth and sharp, shattered the suffocating silence.
Heinz stood at the edge of the ballroom, posture relaxed, but the weight of his presence bore down on the entire hall like an unspoken command.
"It’s been quite so ti since I’ve spoken to either of you, and yet, for the past few years, you’ve been so eager to gain my attention." His lips curled slightly, but his crimson eyes remained cold. "Why are you suddenly so... speechless?"
A ripple of whispers surged through the crowd, like dry leaves caught in the wind.
"He’s toying with them."
"Serves them right, but still... in public?"
"His Majesty hasn’t attended any social events, now he hosts one... and it turns out like this..."
Alexandrius swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. "We... we weren’t saying anything untoward, Your Majesty. We were rely catching up with our sons."
"I never said you were saying anything untoward, Duke Flaheart," Heinz replied smoothly. "I only ntioned that you seed to be discussing sothing of great importance."
A beat of silence. Then, Alexandrius visibly shuddered.
’Ouch.’ Florian stifled the urge to whistle. ’He’s toying with them on purpose.’
Heinz then turned his gaze to Alaric. "Uncle, it has been quite so ti. Are you not going to greet ?"
Alaric’s lips parted, but no words ca out. His wide eyes glead with sothing Florian could only describe as alarm. It was like watching a deer realize, far too late, that it was standing in a hunter’s sights.
Heinz’s eyes were glowing.
That deep, eerie red—bright, burning, unnatural.
’Knew it. He’s doing sothing,’ Florian mused, watching as a barely perceptible shudder ran through the gathered nobles.
Alaric swallowed thickly before finally forcing out a response. "Heinz... yes. Indeed. It has been a while. I did not expect you would approach ."
"Why wouldn’t I, Uncle?" Heinz tilted his head ever so slightly, his voice still disturbingly calm. "This is a celebration, after all. Where is Lucas? And Auntie?"
The words were casual, but sothing about them felt... wrong.
The ballroom had beco deathly still.
And Heinz knew it.
He didn’t even acknowledge the fact that the music had stopped. Or that all conversation had ceased. Or that every breath in the room was being held, as if waiting for sothing inevitable to strike.
Lucius stood firm, his unreadable gaze locked onto his father. Lancelot, however, refused to look at his own. But then, with barely concealed spite, he spoke.
"Co now, Father," he drawled. "Tell His Majesty what we were talking about earlier. After all, most of your grievances could be addressed by him."
Florian blinked.
’Damn. He’s really fanning the flas.’
The flickering candlelight reflected in Alexandrius’s furious glare as he turned to his son. "I have no grievances against His Majesty. Only towards you, you ungrateful—"
’Liar.’
A single step forward.
It was barely even a movent, yet it sent an unmistakable wave of tension rippling through the room.
Heinz’s gaze flickered toward Florian for the briefest mont—acknowledging him, as if to confirm that he knew he was still standing there.
Then, his attention snapped back to Alexandrius.
"What was that?" Heinz asked.
Alexandrius took a step back.
"W-What?"
"You do know who you were addressing just now, correct?" Heinz tilted his head, as if mildly curious.
A new wave of whispers erupted.
"He wouldn’t—"
"But that’s treason, isn’t it?"
"His Majesty is terrifying."
"My... son?" Alexandrius answered hesitantly.
Heinz chuckled. A low, almost pleased sound. "Well, yes. But your son is also the Commander of the Obsidian Knights. My knights." His gaze then flickered toward Alaric. "And my head butler."
The realization hit them like a guillotine.
"You, of all people, should know what that ans," Heinz continued smoothly. "Surely, a forr commander such as yourself wouldn’t be so careless?"
His smirk sharpened.
"Wouldn’t that an..."
The glow of his crimson eyes intensified.
"Treason?"
’Burn.’ Florian thought. ’Heinz sure does love accusing people for treason.’1
"Oh my, what is His Majesty going to do?"
"The dukes did cross the line..."
"To think a scene like this would happen when the King finally opened his doors to us..."
"This is quite a ss."
The murmurs swelled in volu, the tension climbing higher. Florian flicked his gaze toward the princesses—watching from a distance, their faces shadowed with unease.
Heinz was supposed to be changing the way people saw him.
But this?
This was not helping.
People already saw him as a tyrant.
The man who killed his own father, banished his stepmother and half-brother to the edge of Concordia, laid waste to kingdoms, and demanded a harem.
If he didn’t salvage his image soon, it would only grow worse.
Alaric and Alexandrius refused to bow their heads, but their fear was obvious.
M-My apologies, Heinz," Alaric finally stamred, his voice a strained mixture of forced humility and lingering defiance. His usual smooth confidence wavered, his fingers twitching at his sides.
"It was never our intention to insult you. We were rely caught up in our emotions. As you know, what happened before—"
"—is in the past, no?" Heinz interjected smoothly, his tone calm yet carrying an unmistakable authority that left no room for argunt.
Silence.
The entire ballroom seed to be holding its breath, the once-lively atmosphere frozen in the wake of the king’s words. Even those who had only been half-listening to the growing tension between the ducal lords and their sons now found themselves fully invested, their eyes darting between the towering figures before them.
Florian swallowed. ’He’s good at this.’
Heinz never needed to raise his voice. He didn’t have to command the room with sheer volu or force. He simply was, and that was enough to silence even the most powerful n in the kingdom.
"That is why I intended to say during my speech earlier..." Heinz’s gaze flickered to Florian.
Florian tensed. ’Oh. Right.’
Heinz never got to finish his speech because Florian had gotten too excited and told everyone to start dancing.
"I would like to rebuild the relationship between the Obsidian family and the ducal houses," Heinz continued, his voice carrying through the room with an undeniable weight. "With the nobility. And, of course, with my citizens. This ball isn’t just to commorate Florian, it is the start of my new goal."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Excited murmurs followed, the tension now giving way to eager anticipation.
"Is that true?"
"That is big news for Concordia!"
Even the two dukes looked montarily caught off guard, their earlier hostility replaced with sothing closer to astonishnt.
Florian, anwhile, was already inching away.
’That’s my cue to leave.’
His goal? The princesses.
Anywhere was better than being between n who could probably split a mountain with their combined rage.
But then, in the corner of the ballroom, he saw her.
Scarlett.
She stood alone, a delicate glass of wine in her hand, though she barely seed aware of it. Her eyes were downcast, focused blankly on the floor, her usual sharp presence dulled.
’Oh, there she is.’
She had been acting off all day, and Florian hasn’t spoken to her since her test.
Florian’s steps slowed.
’I should talk to her.’
Coz he accused OG!Florian treason. Get it? HAHA
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