[AFYC] Chapter 54

Luxen.

A land of mild climate throughout the year, rich and bountiful with not a single rugged corner. Geographically located at the centre of the Norfolk continent, it had long been a hub of trade. Wealth naturally accumulated there, and where there was wealth, art and culture flourished.

Particularly, Luxen’s capital, Vieux, was so culturally and artistically advanced that even a random museum encountered on a stroll could be more magnificent than the royal palaces of other nations. But no one disputed that the pinnacle of Vieux’s art and culture was found in the royal palace.

The palace’s front gate was flanked by two massive columns, each 10 metress high. The royal symbol, the double-headed eagle, spread its enormous wings atop each column. The palace itself was perfectly symmetrical, just like the columns.

However, the true beauty of this symmetry wasn’t apparent from the outside but from within the palace looking out. This was because the entire palace was designed from the king’s perspective.

The king’s balcony was at the centre of this symmetry and the heart of the palace.

The most beautiful balcony in the palace, perhaps the most beautiful in the world, was an artwork in itself. Every inch, from the marble balustrades to the floor, was a masterpiece. But the true marvel was the view from the balcony.

A vast, unobstructed vista under the ever-blue sky. The golden eagle glints brilliantly beneath the blue expanse.

From the balcony railing, one could look down to see a garden with meticulously designed patterns in the grass. Following these patterns upward, one could see symmetrical fountains and the arched colonnades on either side. The palace gardens were a picture framed by the colonnades, a masterpiece for the king.

Despite the widespread admiration for the balcony, one person despised it with all his being.

The problem was that this person was none other than the king himself, the master of the palace and the owner of the balcony.

Leopold, King of Luxen, stood motionless at the centre of the balcony, staring straight ahead. He hadn’t always hated the balcony. Once upon a time, he loved it so much that he would paint the view and keep the paintings as cherished mementoes.

That was until that bastard began to irritate him.

Beyond the palace gates, a towering statue stood in a broad roundabout directly in line with the balcony.

It was a place that should have been reserved for a statue of the first king. Instead, it was occupied by the statue of the late Marquis Reinhardt.

The hero who saved the nation.

Even now, commoners passing by would look up at the statue and explain the legacy of Reinhardt to their children.

That damned statue, visible every day, constantly reminded Leopold of that smug bastard.

And it wasn’t just the statue.

Leopold stared at the newspaper’s front page, which featured Oscar’s face, then threw it aside.

Recently, Luxen’s major newspapers have been filled with stories about the downfall of foreign royal families or the rise of the Reinhardt Steel Company. Since they couldn’t place the news of fallen foreign monarchies on the front page, Oscar’s photograph usually dominated the headlines.

“The Pillar of Luxen: Reinhardt Steel Company.”

What a sickening headline.

As the maid who had been standing in the shadows leaned over to pick up the discarded newspaper, a middle-aged gentleman entered the balcony through the open door.

“Your Majesty.”

It was Count Jerome, often referred to as Leopold’s right hand. He had successfully arranged for his only daughter to be engaged to the king at the end of last year.

Although the count bowed respectfully to the king, Leopold barely acknowledged his presence, lighting a cigarette instead. The maid, who had folded the newspaper and placed it on the sofa, approached and lit the king’s cigarette. As she closed the door, Leopold spoke in an irritable tone.

“Did you see today’s newspaper?”

“....”

“The news I wanted wasn’t there, but ‘The Pillar of Luxen: Reinhardt Steel Company’ was plastered all over. They might as well rename the country Reinhardt soon.”

“Your Majesty.”

“What am I supposed to do? Should I follow the example of the King of Felphe and open a bank to sell some accounts?”

Leopold spat out the words venomously as he tapped his cigarette.

“You were so confident you could kill him this time, yet instead of killing him, not a single one of our men came back alive?”

“I apologise. There is no excuse.”

“Perhaps you couldn’t bring yourself to kill him because of the Marchioness?”

At this pointed question, Count Jerome’s face stiffened slightly.