"Yes. It is true."
He placed the paper down, turned around and started to slowly walk towards her. Only stopping when he was only one foot away. Her heart started to beat faster. There was silence at first, as he intensely stared at her eyes before he started to talk.
"Explain yourself." he asked Cora calmly.
"Sire."
"Explain... yourself."
"..."
"Nobody is listening. Silverstone made sure nobody is coming this way, aning nobody can hear us as long we talk normally. So I will ask again. Explain yourself Cora." he said with a stoic face. After a brief mont of silence, she took in a deep breath.
"We had been watching you ever since your providence your highness. When our leader heard that you did not posses magic, we saw you as a potential candidate that had the ability to achieve our goals. That is why I ca here to work for the palace.
pαndα`noνɐ1--сoМ "But I promise you your highness, I have grown fond of you as a child. All those precious monts we had together. It make feel as if you were like..."
Kant stayed silent. He wanted to hear what she had to say.
"...like my son I never had." Kant can see little drops of tears rolling down her eyes. The room entered into a silence for a solid minute. Cora's heart was rapidly beating, awaiting an answer from the Prince.
Kant then walked over to the closet, grabbed a napkin and cleared off the salty tears off Cora's face. After it was dry, he placed the napkin in his pocket, and looked back at Cora.
"There are a few questions regarding the movent that you are a part off. To evaluate whether it is a group capable of working with."
"Ask away your highness."
"How does the movent view the outside world?"
"We believe that though the magical rulers are necessary for our safety, we would like for them to treat and respect us like they have done a century ago."
"What is the status of your relationship with friends and family not in the movent?"
"Good. We all connect together and talk about our daily lives, like usual."
"Want to drop any nas?"
"Avon York, John Blois, Reisha Plantagenet and so more."
"How does the movent describe the monarchs of the continent to it's followers?"
"We believe that the treatnt of the commoners by the monarchs have gone down over the century as they have beco ever more disconnected."
"Is it's mbers obliged to donate to the movent?"
"We do take in small donations from our followers, but it is not mandated that they should donate."
"Is financial transparency important among the group?"
"Yes sire. Anyone who can read can check for themselves."
"Does the group have approved sources of information that the mbers of the group can take?"
"There is no such thing sire. Though we do have so books written down, we mostly talk with in speeches in underground bars. We all take turns and debate with civility. It was when I managed to convince the others to pursue you sire."
"What is the relationship with the branches of other cities?"
"We do cooperate, but on a tiny scale at best. As far as we are concerned, they might as well be separate."
There was a another silence. Cora waited for Kant to respond back. She hoped that she gave all what Kant needed to know. As she was being questioned, Kant had examined her with a stoic expression. To find any hints that she was lying to his face any way.
"What is that your group intend to do?" he finally asked.
"We hope that his highness manages to take power. We believe you have the intellect and capacity to defend and rule despite your inability of magic. We have already constructed a plan in doing so, and we can inform you if you are interested."
Another silence. Kant went over to the curtains. He dragged them apart to let the sunlight in. After the room was fairly lit back up again, he requested Cora one thing.
"Can you please bring a cup of coffee?" he said.
"Of course your highness." she said before she left the room.
...
Kant sat on his red armchair. He was sweating a little bit. He waited for his coffee to be brought over to his table. As he waited, he thought of what happened today, and all the days that ca before.
'Despite my dark past on Earth, I have subconsciously tried to live in this new world peacefully, like a normal person would. Yet I have once again been rejected and deceived by almost anyone there is. I tried again by embracing my technological intellect to try use it to receive the attention and care I so desperately craved.
But all that lead to outside forces attempting to use to achieve their goals, as a tool by people I don't know. No matter how noble they may seem, all of them were a façade placed on their face I turned a blind eye to. I realize I cannot abandon the wisdom I gained from my past life, no matter how hard I try.
I cannot be so careless from here on out, nor I cannot ignore any red flags. I might have been lucky today, but I won't be tomorrow. I have once again been thrown into a position of power, this ti of a city with a population 210,000 people, all who trust to keep their families safe.
There are only choices, all with their economic value, most that can be asured in monetary terms. It would allow to spend the least amount while maximizing the benefits. Sothing I have learned to be useful in the trenches of the war.
It is no longer a matter of pride, ego and attention anymore, but one of survival; one which I intend to be on top. Yet in this world of divine leaders, it would an that there is no place for Kant Maybale, the cursed prince of Hoverdam who lacks magic. There is only a place for an engineer, and forr U.S Army major, Howard Orwell Bright, the real .'
The door opened once more. Cora had brought him his coffee on a silver tray. She placed it down on the table. Kant walks over, picks it up from the handle, take a sip and turned to Cora.
"Tell your boss I accept his request." he says. He sits down on the chair near the table, and takes another sip.
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