Chapter 2 - The Rise of Phoenix Monarch, The Seventh Prince returns II
The list of the things needed to be done seemed endless, but it was nothing for the people of the monarch. At last, after a decade of slavery, their prayers had been heard. Lucas could see this on their faces. No matter how hard cleaning the capital was, they wore smiles, they reached out helping hands and fool around like old times.
"Deputy General! Report!" one of the surviving soldiers rushed to him. Lucas regarded him with a nod, "Prince Aizen would like to meet you at the Hall of Flames."
"Right now?"
"Yes, sir."
Lucas dismissed the soldier and proceeded to the said place. He admitted that he expected the prince to be sitting at the throne when he arrived, but Prince Aizen was quietly staring up at it.
"Your Highness."
Lucas knelt on one knee and waited for the prince to say something. It took quite a while before Prince Aizen even moved. The first thing he did was observe the expanse of the hall, as if he was memorizing every corner of it.
"Has this place changed since you last saw it, General?"
"Eh? I-I uhm," he took one glance at the surrounding, "It did change, Your Highness, but not much."
"Mh, that's good." Prince Aizen turned to him with a smile so carefree as if he didn't just kill a thousand people last night. But that smile was immediately replaced with surprise when he saw Lucas kneeling.
"Please stand, General. You don't serve my Order," he chuckled as he guided him up.
"But Your Highness, I-"
"No buts, please." He raised a hand to emphasize his request, before he braced both behind his back. "I would like you to lead its renovation” he gestured at the expanse of space, “and I hope you can restore its former state before the uh… before those scaly bastards came into the picture, haha."
Lucas bowed his head, "I would do my best to fulfill your wish, Your Highness. If you wish for any personal changes, I could take note of them as well."
"No it isn't for me," he waved a hand, "This will be Ahri's throne," he jerked a thumb to the grandiose seat, "If she wished for anything personal, I suggest you approach her."
For Princess Ahri? But that's not how it's supposed to be! Lucas thought. Princess Ahri was the youngest royal blood, and by hierarchy of age and gender, it was Aizen who should take the place as the new ruler of the Phoenix Monarch.
"With all due respect, Your Highness, it was you who should be t-"
"The King?" he laughed breathlessly, "No, no, no… It isn't for me. Ahri is a much more suitable heir to it, besides I wasn't really a part of the noble line, was I?"
Despite the smile the prince wore, Lucas could see the dark glint in Prince Aizen's eyes. He knew why. But he still asked. And Lucas wanted to slap himself for the indirect disrespect.
"Apologies, Your Highness, it wasn't my intention--"
"Now, now, General, don't pull that face on me. Let us forget the past. Let bygones be bygones.”
The prince once again stood before him. He was a head shorter than Lucas, smaller in physique. If Lucas did not see him slaughtering all those men, he would still have thought that the seventh prince of the monarch was mediocre compared to his elder brothers.
“Thank you Deputy General,” Prince Aizen placed a hand on his shoulder, “You proved yourself loyal to your country. I would certainly request Princess Ahri to have you replace the late General Zen.”
“No, Your Highness. It was my honor to serve until my last breath.”
“Mh, and how was your injury?”
Lucas unconsciously placed a hand over his wound, “It was nothing serious Your Highness. I owe you my life.”
“Nonsense!” Aizen waved a hand, then leaned close to his face. “But please, do not engage in any physical activities until it is fully healed, you understand?”
Lucas’ eyes widened upon the proximity. Aizen’s face was too close to be considered proper. While a part of Lucas was ashamed from the small leap of his heart, another part of him was astonished from the prince’s handsomeness.
“Y-Yes Your Highness.”
“Good,” the prince leaned away, before walking past him. “I’ll get going now. See you around General Lucas.”
The said man watched the prince’s back as the latter walked away.
If Aizen would meet himself ten years ago, he would tell his younger self not to take everything for granted. He would tell him to cherish his family even though they weren't close enough to enjoy a banquet together. He would advise him to participate more in politics, or get himself involved in the military. That way, he could have served his country and perhaps, could have made a significant difference to the monarch's future.
Had he not been so detached from the outside world--had he not been so cold and indifferent to his surroundings, this wouldn't have happened.
As Aizen walked to the South West Wing of the Palace, he crossed the extensive lotus pond that he used to take care of. He could still remember watching Old Hanju sweeping next to it before greeting him with a "Good Day, Your Highness!". Old Hanju would then try to bow but he would always prevent the old man by catching him midway.
"Aiyo, Old Hanju I told you not to do that anymore. One more bow and you will not be able to get your spine straight anymore," he would tease.
"This old man would bend his knees and kowtow if he still had the strength. Your Highness, Hanju will not reach this point of life had he not taken this man under his wing."
Aizen halted on the spot where the old caretaker used to stay and lifted his arms before locking his palm a foot away from his chest. He slowly bent his body forward and stayed in place for a while.
"May your soul be at peace, Old Hanju."
Across the lotus pond was the cobbled pathway that leads to his manor. While not as big as his siblings', the home to the Order of the Seventh was filled with prosperity and peace.
Serving under the seventh prince of the monarch, the order was known to be the poorest and smallest among others. While they still enjoyed the benefits of living in the palace, it wasn't as luxurious and as extravagant like the others.
Still, his order had a reputation that exceeds the materialistic approach.
The Order of the Seventh was known for their undying loyalty. It was rumored that his order was composed of people the prince had once saved, or those who earned his favor. Many, if not all, that was under his wing, had a life debt to him.
Aizen did not remember when and how this rumor came to life, but he neither denied nor confirmed them in the past.
To him, everyone serving his Order, was more like a family than his subordinate.
Aizen went past the old wooden gate and observed the courtyard. It seemed like his manor wasn't deemed to be worthy of use by those Dragon fiends. But that didn't mean they had maintained the place.
Entering the manor, the first thing that would catch one’s attention is the courtroom standing magnificently at the center. To the left were the soldier’s quarters, next to it was the training field, which had both the armory and archery section. Aizen remembered spending most of his spare time practicing his martial arts there. On the right side of the court, facing the soldier’s quarters was a fountain made with the finest obsidian. Aizen remembered having a sculpture of a dancing maiden whose face was hidden with a veil as the main decor. Now it was covered with moss and vines and the water by its feet had already dried out. Still, Aizen regarded it with a bow, paying respects and murmuring a short prayer.
Behind the fountain was the servants’ quarters. Most of the housekeepers and cooks stay there. It was placed next to his quarters—which was right next to the court—so they could attend his needs if he called.
Aizen took the small staircase leading to the center of the manor. The courtroom was framed with eight pillars—four on both sides—that extended in a row from the door and to his throne. At the end was a small staircase that leads to the royal seat, along with a desk that was only decorated by his court’s seal.
He remembered having meetings here with his subordinates, all of which were headed by General Titus, whom he appointed to lead the Order’s military matters, and Councilman Eren, whom he trusted with the political side. Both were capable and highly respected, despite their constant barking.
Aizen approached the small stairs and reached a hand towards the edge of the seat as he circled it. Images of the past replayed as if it was happening before him.
"Your Highness! Your Highness! I found this amazing frog by the lotus pond! Look! It's so yellow!" cried a running man in white.
"??!! That frog is poisonous, put that down this instant!!"
"Eh?! But I just caught it! I spent all morning trying to catch this!"
The man stomped on the ground like a child as if he wasn't half a head taller than the prince. His coral lips were pulled into a pout, light brows drawn together, and mint green eyes shone with tears—tears he hoped could trick the prince into giving what he wanted.
"Why can't you just obey—"
"Your Highness!" the taller man whined, stomping again.
"Put it down."
"Aizen~pretty please?"
Aizen remembered having headaches almost everyday back then. But every moment was preciously stored in his mind. He sat on the throne with a heavy sigh and closed his eyes.
In his moment of silence, he failed to notice the approaching footsteps until a familiar, velvety voice resounded in the empty room. “Brother!”
Aizen was immediately drawn back to the present, eyes falling to the last princess of their monarch. The youngest of the Phoenix royal line—Princess Ahri.
Dragging her crimson dress, Ahri almost stumbled on her feet in an attempt to meet Aizen halfway to the throne. Aizen was first to reach her out and pulled her against his chest. Despite Aizen’s lithe body, Ahri’s frame was totally encaged in the prince’s arm, while her head was safely tucked against the prince’s collarbone. “Brother! I thought—I thought you’re dead! I thought I was the only one left, I couldn’t believe—”
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here.” he comforted. Aizen patted her head and rubbed her small back. He then wiped her tears with his thumb, gently caressing her ever pristine skin. Most of the young ladies in the capital envied Ahri’s glass-like skin. She was known for her beauty and intelligence back then, and while she was the youngest, there was no one who could compare to her beauty, not even the Queen.
Back then, Ahri was the only one who treated him like a family. She would often visit him with a basket of fruits, and they would always spend late afternoon together, with Ahri singing the song Aizen wrote, and the prince playing flute with her.
“Brother, what happened to you? Where have you been? How come you didn’t come after all these years?”
Aizen gave his sister an apologetical smile, “It’s a long story.” He brushed her long charcoal hair affectionately, and then observed how her youthful face developed into a face of an elegant woman. The vermillion mark on her forehead, the mark that only the females in the royal bloodline have, was a sad reminder that only the two of them remained from the eight children of the Phoenix King.
There were so many questions dancing in Ahri’s eyes, but Aizen couldn’t give her the answers. He himself wanted answers.
He wanted to know why the Dragon Clan attempted to annihilate their bloodline.
He wanted to know how he survived the siege.
And he wanted to find answers behind a certain someone’s identity. His confidante, his soulmate, his late lover—
Juno…
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