Chapter 614: Far From Enough

“You, you can’t do this,” Thales’ voice trembled as it filled the room.

But what met the young man was the King’s apathetic response, as if this heart-pounding standoff had already reached its end.

“Get out.”

Thales’ breath hitched, and his fingernails dug into his palm, sending waves of pain througli him. ‘No.

‘It’s not over yet.

‘It can’t be over…

With a deep breath. Thales made one final effort,

“That orphan girl, this said to be an important piece to hold the Western Desert, is nothing but an excuse—though a rather glaring one.”

Leaning forward on the desk, he ground his teeth,

“The real key. as you said, is me.”

Nevertheless, the King showed no interest, his face a perfect mask of indifference,

“Will you leave with your dignity intact, or shall I wait for the Royal Guards to drag you out?” Thales did his best to push aside the King’s words and get back to the issue at hand.

“Without me, Fakenhaz won’t be as compliant as you desire.

“Without me, Amos’ orphan girl is of no value in your hands.”

But it was evident that King Kessel had lost all interest. He lowered his head in thought, ignoring Thales entirely.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck it,’ Thales muttered under his breath, growing more and more anxious at the King’s stubbornness.

“The Duke of the Western Desert won’t let you have your way,” Thales blurted out, his voice rising involuntarily.

“I mean, if he’s bold enough to take such a big risk by offering those terms, he must be ready for anything. He might even rile up the dwellers from the Western Desert, making things go haywire…”

But Thales found his hopes dashed.

King Kessel stayed just as unresponsive as ever.

“When that time comes…” Thales stopped mid-sentence, looking at the King, who had his eyes closed, feeling both tired and irritated.

‘What to do?

‘What to do?!’

Anxiety and frustration built up inside him. and the Sin of Hell’s River, untimely excited, only added to Thales’ restlessness.1

The man in front of him was just plain stubborn, headstrong, unswayed by threats, not willing to find middle ground, sticking to his own ways, deaf to any reason.

Being assertive didn’t work, and offering a conciliatory approach didn’t seem to get through to him either.

It was sickening and disgustingly maddening.

‘Why the heck didn’t someone knock some sense into this guy when he was a kid?

‘And how on earth did he end up as a king?

‘Were the nobles who put him in charge blind or what?’

“Hey!”

The King’s reaction, or rather lack thereof, infuriated the young man. He jumped up from his seat and pounded the table, yelling. “Hey’, buddy’.”

“Didn’t you hear what 1 just said?”

King Kessel appeared frozen, not budging an inch.

“I’m fucking talking to you’.”

Thales threw aside all manners and blurted out in frustration.

“Kessel. Fucking. Jadestar’.”

There was a cracking sound from behind.

The doors to the Ballard Room swung open.

Followed by a gust of cold wind and a cautious inquiry, “Your Majesty, we’re ready—”

“The King is very much alive!”

The Prince cut off the newcomer, his anger telling.

“If 1 were really about to do some king-killing and father-slaying, for Sunset Goddess’ sake,” He didn’t even bother turning around; he just kept on shouting.

1 ‘untimely’; TdW1„ (idiom) out of keeping with the times; incompatible with present needs; inopportune; inappropriate.

“Just so you know, 1’11 give you a heads-up before I get down to it. Your Excellency, son-of-a-bitch Vanguard Marigo’.”

Thales’s shout echoed down the corridor, sparking hushed whispers among the Royal Guards stationed outside.

A few moments later, prompted by something or someone, the air fell completely silent.

Across the long table. King Kessel, who had heard the words, finally opened his eyes and scowled.

“Well played.” Thales said, looking at the King and heaving a sigh, his anger not yet settled.

“1 was starting to think you really had a stroke there. Father.”

A friendly cough sounded from behind, though not from Marigo.

“Apologies, Your Highness.”

The voice of Lord Adrian, the chief commander of the Royal Guards, came with his approaching

steps,

“I’m just here… to bring you dinner.”

Thales turned to see Lord Adrian deftly carrying two meal trays and entering the room with steady

steps.

The Royal Guards were still keeping watch outside.

Thales was somewhat surprised, but he quickly regained his composure and took a deep breath, though his disappointment lingered.

It was over.

The Royal Guards had arrived.

That meant…

“1 know that dinner duty was originally Baron Quentin’s,” Lord Adrian commented as he smoothly placed the meal beside the King, attempting to ease the tension in the room.

“But after settling accounts with some glass merchants, he came back with a headache and a request for sick leave…”

King Kessel interrupted. “No need. Adrian.”

He shot a cold glance at Thales and then at the guards outside, who were on high alert.

“We’re quite done here.”

Thales felt a chill in his heart.

Captain Adrian had just set up the King’s meal, and he. too. paused when he heard the King’s words.

He put away his smile, turned to Thales, and said inquisitively.

“Is that so? So soon?”

King Kessel did not react.

Thales breathed in deeply and then let it out slowly.

Inside, he was growing colder with every passing moment.

“Do you really not care? At all?” he asked, sounding exhausted and desperate. “1 just don’t get it. If the whole Kingdom falls apart, what’s the point of everything you’ve been doing—the campaigns, the reforms, the tax hikes? What’s the reason behind it all?”

“What’s the reason?” His forlorn question echoed loudly in the corridor.

In response to the Prince’s probing. King Kessel just remained indifferent, his lips curling with disdain.

However, Adrian’s expression changed. He quickly gestured for the guards at the door to close it.

Only then did Adrian sigh and approach Thales with the tray in hand.

“Don’t trouble yourself. Adrian. He won’t be dining here,” the King said, his tone cold and matter-of-fact.

“Of course, sire, but…” Adrian began. He set the tray down, then picked up a small wine jug, filled Thales’ cup, and offered a smile. “As far as I know. Your Highness hasn’t had a proper meal all day. At least have a drink to clear your head.”

“It’s Northland rye wine from the Northern Territory. I hope it suits Your Highness taste.” But Thales had no interest in the meal at this moment. He simply stared at King Kessel with tired, bloodshot eyes.

“1 don’t drink.”

“Ah, right, I heard as much from Mallos.” Adrian said it with a sigh.

With that, Adrian reluctantly put away the wine jug.

“It’s a shame. So many people put in a lot of effort—from harvesting the ingredients, brewing in the cellar, handling long-distance deliveries, to carefully selecting dishes in the kitchen— overcoming all sorts of challenges just to bring it to your table…”

so many people put in a lot of effort… overcoming all sorts of challenges… just to bring it to your table…

Much like he did. fighting hard just to be there.

But…

Listening to Adrian’s words, Thales stared at the emotionless King, and a deeper sorrow filled him.

With a sudden crash—the loud, crisp noise interrupted the stillness—the wine glass in front of Thales met the floor, shattering into pieces. Adrian turned, puzzled, his eyes widening at the sight. “Your Highness—”

Adrian’s words were abruptly cut short as he stood once again in surprise. Thales had somehow grabbed the wine jug from Adrian’s hand, pulling it away firmly.

The Prince kept his gaze fixed on the King. He lifted the jug’s lid. aimed it at the jug’s mouth, and took a big gulp!

“Pfft’.”

A cough, followed by Thales spitting out the wine after just one mouthful, grimacing clearly in discomfort.

•Shit!’

“This definitely isn’t from the Northern Territory,” Thales muttered, battling with the taste he couldn’t quite grow accustomed to. He coughed in agony and glared at King Kessel with reddened

eyes.

“It’s from further north, fromfucking Eckstedt!”

“Is that so?” Adrian replied, showing a hint of surprise.

“Well, then I’m even more impressed. It must have travelled quite a distance..

“Adrian.”

The King’s cold tone interrupted the guard captain.

“Escort Prince Thales back to Mindis Hall.”

Adrian’s warm smile faded as he turned and offered a respectful bow.

“Yes, sire?”

As the long-serving Chief Commander of the Royal Guards, his instincts were sharp, and his tone conveyed readiness for the next set of instructions.

King Kessel paused for a moment, his gaze deepening as he looked at Thales.

“My son. young and in the throes of his first love, was unhappy with his arranged marriage. In his recklessness, he stormed into the palace, demanding an explanation.”3

Thales breathed, his thoughts drifting.

Seeing what could have been a major crisis for the throne framed as a mere youthful escapade.

Adrian’s eyes twinkled with newfound understanding, and he remarked, “I see.”4

But the situation took a turn with the King’s next words.

“I couldn’t contain my anger and ordered a severe punishment.”

severe punishment

Thales’ heart quickened.

The Chief Commander also raised an eyebrow, inquiring, “Your Majesty?”

King Kessel snorted softly before adding. “It was only thanks to the advice of my court ministers that we met face-to-face, had an honest conversation, and ultimately cleared up the misunderstanding.”

cleared up the misunderstanding

Adrian nodded in understanding, releasing a barely noticeable sigh of relief.

“Understood.”

“Today, for all those who witnessed the events—whether they were Royal Guards. Jadestar private soldiers, palace servants, or visiting officials and nobles…” King Kessel’s tone took on a sly note, “Make sure they can provide an ‘correct’ account if questioned.”

“Of course,” he replied, his smile losing a touch of its earlier warmth. “Their memories are sharp, and they won’t get it wrong.”

As they discussed the ‘post-incident’ plans, Thales, who knew the situation was already beyond recovery, couldn’t help but scoff.

“So, the idea is to have this ‘correct collective memory’, huh?”5

He turned his gaze towards the King, his words drawing a quizzical look from Adrian.

“1 guess I can’t appeal to your sense of national duty, can I? Not even when 1 brandish the spectre of the Bloody Year as a weapon does it stir any reaction in you.”

Thales’ smile faded, and he said, his tone sharp. “When will you finally understand that

Constellation don’t belong to you alone?

“Tyrant?”

Adrian’s face suddenly paled.

At last, the Iron Hand King raised his head and met Thales’ gaze.

“Adrian.”

This time, the King’s response was firm.

“In regards to those attendants who goaded the Prince into breaking the rules and followed him to storm the palace today…”

Thales felt a knot tighten in his chest.

“Whether they arc guards, servants, aides, lovers, commoners, nobles, descendants of the Seven Jadestar Attendants, or ennobled families, compile a list and submit it to the Nobility Affairs Centre, the Police Station, the Department of Moral Standards, the Flag Bearer Division, and the Secret Intelligence Department.”

The King held Thales’ gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“They’ll know what needs to be done.”

Thales shuddered slightly.

Wya, Ralf, Glover. D.D.. Kohen…

“At your command. Your Majesty,” Adrian replied promptly.

“TH get right on it.”

The Prince couldn’t take his eyes off King Kessel, his breath coming in uneven bursts.

But the King had more to say.

“Now. as for the oversight in Mindis Hall, which allowed an assassin to sneak into the royal banquet,” the King said, tilting his chin and gazing down at Thales.

“Inform Vogel, the Flag Bearer Officer: this concerns the safety of the Prince and the honour of the royal family…”

“…they must thoroughly investigate this matter, with no leniency.”

The King’s words came to a halt, his eyes turning icy.

“…and deal with it severely.”

deal with it severely

Thales echoed in his mind, a sinking feeling taking hold.

“Also, let Mallos return to his old post. You might be right; he isn’t the right fit for this position.” King Kessel withdrew his gaze, snorting.

“For the Prince’s guard captain, we’ll select someone else: Vogel or Marigo; either of them would do.”

Adrian, without a word, offered only another bow.

Thales’s fingernails, fists clenched tight, dug into his palms, threatening to break the skin.

“You won’t succeed.” The Prince’s voice filled the room, cold and charged with resentment and

anger.

“All you’ll do is lead Constellation down to hell, just like the former king did.” With those words, it felt as if the room’s temperature dropped a few degrees. The King fell silent for a while, and Adrian kept his head lowered, saying nothing. “That’s it, Adrian,” King Kessel said plainly but firmly.

“Now, take him and get out,” he directed.

Thales snickered and lowered his head.

“Understood, sire.” Adrian nodded with a slight bow but then hesitated.

“Oh. Your Majesty, it just occurred to me…”

The captain lifted his gaze, and King Kessel met his gaze with indifference.

Adrian, with a touch of uncertainty, continued. “On our way here, everyone saw me carrying the dinner trays.”

King Kessel raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“Well, if the misunderstanding regarding the palace intrusion has really been resolved and things have indeed returned to normal…” Adrian continued tentatively, “Wouldn’t then, at this time. His Highness Prince Thales feel a little embarrassed and ashamed, and you, sire, be gracious enough to invite him to share dinner together?”6

share dinner together

King Kessel’s brow remained up, and Thales raised his head, perplexed.

‘What?’

Adrian responded with a warm smile and a nod towards the door. “That way, everyone will remember the details ‘correctly’?”

correctly

The King paused for a moment, while Thales looked at Adrian in surprise.

“The Imperial Conference isn’t over.” King Kessel said matter-of-factly, “and I don’t have the whole night to spend with him.”

Adrian’s eyes lit up as he responded, “Oh, speaking of which. Your Majesty, please don’t worry. Just half an hour ago. Baron Quentin arranged accommodations and meals for all the esteemed council members staying in the palace tonight. They’re ready at any moment, should you require them for your official matters.”

The King’s expression shifted subtly.

Lord Adrian, still smiling warmly, motioned towards the dishes on the table. “Rest assured. Your Majesty, you do indeed have the whole evening.”

After a brief moment of thought. King Kessel raised an eyebrow, questioning, “You just said Quentin wasn’t feeling well after settling the glass bill and requested leave.”

“Indeed?” Adrian arched an eyebrow, offering an awkward smile in response to the King’s piercing stare, as if he had been caught red-handed.

“Very well.” Adrian sighed and walked over to Thales, offering an apologetic smile. “1’11 take His Highness out now. We’ll try to keep it discreet and not draw too much attention.”

However, at that moment, the King’s voice broke through. “That’s enough.”

The King cast a somewhat disdainful glance at Thales.

“He’s staying,” he stated with the same frigid resolve. “Plan the timing and escort him out later.”

Adrian brightened up and promptly replied, “Certainly, Your Majesty.”7

Thales stared at Adrian, his expression one of sheer confusion.

‘What… is this?’

However, King Kessel’s words took an unexpected turn at the right time, saying, “Before you head

out..

He nodded towards Thales and continued. “Take this fool to find Marigo. Tell him that the King, in his strict parenting, appoints him to temporarily replace the Discipline Division and enforce penalties on members of the royal family.”

Strict parenting? Thales gritted his teeth in response to the words.

He kept his gaze locked on the King, his mind swirling with countless thoughts.

Adrian fell into silence for a moment, then suddenly something seemed to dawn on him.

“Oh, come to think of it, I must apologise. Your Majesty. It just slipped my mind…”

The guard captain raised his head, his expression warm and apologetic.

“Marigo had to leave due to some urgent matters. 1 sent him over to Mindis Hall not long ago to join the Flag Bearer Division and offer comfort to our detained Star Lake Guards, owing to unforeseen circumstances.”

A cold chuckle escaped King Kessel.

“Not long ago? Urgent matters? Just like Quentin’s sick leave?”

Adrian began to answer, “Yes, just like Quentin…” But midway through, sensed something amiss and chuckled, “Ah, well, maybe not exactly the same.”

A weighty silence settled over the room.

The King turned his head and glanced at Thales, who had a complicated look on his face.

“You really take good care of him,” the King remarked.

“Of course.” Adrian didn’t hesitate in his response, as if he hadn’t caught the undertone. “Marigo is still young, and it’s good for him to take on more responsibilities and get some legwork.” A loud thud filled the room, and the King’s hand struck the armrest of his chair.

King Kessel grumbled in annoyance, his gaze piercing. “Have you deliberately gone against my wishes?”

Adrian’s tone grew more serious.

“My apologies. Your Majesty.” he said with the utmost respect, stepping back and bowing deeply. “Perhaps not against your wishes, but certainly in line with your needs.”

King Kessel continued to glare at his guard captain, his eyes smouldering with anger. in line with your needs

Thales thought to himself, quietly watching the tense exchange between Adrian and the King.

Suddenly, it dawned on him: share dinner together, what it really meant.

But. honestly? Would that, this even make a difference?

That whole incident in the Renaissance Palace…

Ten seconds passed, filled with silence.

King Kessel didn’t answer directly, but the anger in his eyes slowly faded.

“Is this Gilbert’s doing? Did he ask you to step in?” The King asked.

Adrian looked up. He was confused at first, but then came to a sudden realisation. “What? Oh.

Your Majesty, if you need me to summon Count Caso, I can…”

King Kessel let out an exasperated breath with a hint of resignation in his expression.

“That’s enough; get lost already,” he said impatiently, waving his hand.

“1’11 give you five minutes. Come back and take him with you.”

Lord Adrian nodded, showing his willingness.

“Of course, as you wish.”

But then the guard captain’s footsteps immediately halted.

“But from an outsider’s point of view. His Highness would at very least have to finish his meal and chat, then leave with me.” Adrian said hesitantly. “Say…”

“Fifteen minutes?”

fifteen minutes

Both the King and Thales stood stunned for a second.

Then, with a loud crash’.

In the following, a thoroughly exasperated King Kessel slammed his hand down, sending a wine glass tumbling, and glared at Adrian. “Ad—”

“As you command. Your Majesty,” Adrian replied swiftly, bowing before the King could say

more.

“Then fifteen minutes it is!’

Having said that, Adrian walked away in a hurry, not waiting for the King’s response. But halfway to the door, he came to a halt.

“I’m sorry. Your Highness, but I need to take your knife and fork.”

The guard captain went over to Thales, gave the bewildered Prince a quick look, and apologetically collected the cutlery from the Prince’s plate.

“I think a spoon will do. You know, folks from the Far East manage quite well with a pair of thin wooden sticks.”

Thales looked at the captain, his expression a blend of emotions.

“Thank you. Sir,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.

‘Thank you, Lord Adrian, and thank you, Gilbert, for securing this for me…

‘Fifteen minutes.

‘But now that things have reached this point, what else… can I do?’

“You’re most welcome. Your Highness,” Adrian smiled as he tested the weight of the knife and fork in his hand. “By the way, your sword is indeed rather heavy, isn’t it? Not the easiest thing to wield.”

Thales managed a bitter smile, not even bothering with the King across from him. whose expression had nearly frozen into ice.

“That’s not mine; it belongs to Karabeyan…” he began.

But Adrian didn’t let him finish and said matter-of-factly,

“But once we find the sheath for it, things become much more easy.”

The captain of the royal guards thought for a moment and nodded.

“After all. since ancient times, swords…

“…cannot escape the Sheath.”8

…cannot escape the Sheath

In an instant, Thales looked up in surprise.

“What?”

He stared at Adrian with a raised eyebrow.

Lord Adrian grinned slightly, winked, and smoothly left as the doors to the chamber opened and closed.

Thales stood there, watching him go, his thoughts in a whirl.

‘Tormond Mallos.

‘So, you, son-of-a-bitch watchman, my least favourite captain of the Royal Guards.

‘Aren’t you busy being grilled by the Flag Bearers?9

‘You’ve got time to butt into my business?’

Thales clenched his fists.

The door shut, and the room returned to quietude.

“It looks like you’re quite the popular one.” the King said, eyeing the closed door thoughtfully.

“Bothers you, doesn’t it?” Thales took a deep breath, turning his gaze back to his father.

The King snorted coldly.

“Well, you better eat.” King Kessel grabbed his knife and fork casually. “Unless you want to go hungry while enduring a whipping, trust me, it’s no fun.”

Thales picked up his spoon and peered into his soup bowl.

He couldn’t go against the King.

He couldn’t be just another sword.

Just like the Temple and the Imperial Style, their deep-seated differences destined them to be in conflict, unable to coexist. Neither side would easily back down.

Thales stared at his reflection in the bowl.

So, he couldn’t use the chips given by Fakenhaz to negotiate with King Kessel.

He couldn’t use the sword given by the Western desert-dwellers to seek glory at the Renaissance Palace.

That approach just wouldn’t work.

Thales held his spoon tight, with a slight furrow on his brow.

Not enough.

He hadn’t given enough.

Still not enough.

Far from enough.

The Sin of Hell’s River rushed. Hooding his mind, yet strangely, it brought clarity to his thoughts.

He had to give more.

More.

“Since ancient limes, swords cannot escape the Sheath.

“So is il wrong Io seal a thousand blades? “”

Thales observed King Kessel as he quietly enjoyed his meal. His thoughts deepening, and his understanding growing.

‘Are you ready?’

Deep down, a little voice nudged him.

’Thales?’

In the next instant, the Prince suddenly raised his head!

“I know.”

Thales gazed squarely al King Kessel, his tone steady and unshaken.

“1 know you can see through any deception when it comes to this whole Amos’ situation. As long as I still think of using it as leverage, 1 can’t hide it from you, let alone oppose you.” Bui Thales’ tone changed.

“Nevertheless, you won’t succeed, even if you have that orphan girl under your thumb.

“It’s not because Fakenhaz won’t compromise, and it’s not because your methods fall short.” King Kessel the Fifth ate in silence, head down, not uttering a word.

Thales took a deep breath, and what he said next was as much for the King as it was for himself.

“It’s not because of anything else, but because it’s meant to be.”

The King responded with a harsh snort, but Thales didn’t lose his determination. He pierced a piece of what looked like sausage with his spoon.

“You know, Your Majesty, I’ve come to realise something. It doesn’t matter if there’s a ‘Sand King’ or not, or if you aim for centralised power, military expansion, reform, or prosperity for the Kingdom, it doesn’t matter bow much lime goes by—you’re bound to… lose it all.”12

On the other side of the long table. King Kessel, in the middle of slicing some meat, paused for a

moment.

Thales kepi his expression steady and concentrated on his own plate.

“Can you remind me, Your Majesty, how the ‘Sand King’ failed? From vision, goals, and planning to execution, everything was grand, precise, and logical. But in the end, it fell short of success. Forced to compromise, minimise losses, and settle for less at the last moment. What went wrong, exactly?””

The King didn’t respond immediately, but his eyes slowly rose to meet Thales’s gaze.

“Was it the Imperial Conference’s infighting? The Kingdom’s Secret Intelligence Department’s incompetence? The Regular Army’s impatience for success? The Legendary Wing’s shortsightedness? The cunning and vigilant Western Desert vassals? Or perhaps the rebellious desert forces refusing to play by your script?”

The Prince chuckled lightly as he tore into a piece of sausage, though its taste barely registered.

“Or is it possible that no one here is to blame, or maybe everyone’s at fault?”

King Kessel did not move. He only fixed his gaze on Thales.

“Wail!” Thales squinted.

“You don’t honestly believe this is my fault, do you?”

The King stayed quiet.

But Thales didn’t hold his breath for a response.

“No…”

The young man let out a small, wry smile.

“Here’s the plain truth: even if the Sand King’s every piece fell into place and everyone did Iheir

part…”

The Second Prince’s gaze grew intense.

“It was still bound to fail.

“Because il had a single link that was, by itself, the biggest problem.”

Thales dropped all pretence of proper dining etiquette, munching away while pointing his spoon directly al King Kessel.

“You.”

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