I didn’t promise Gillian I’d spare his life, but I couldn’t kill him now.

Confirming the facts came first, after all.

Sikar Blake postponed the royal council to the afternoon, fabricating a sudden health issue for Kian Blake—who, since entering the palace, had not rested a single day while attending to state affairs.

The ministers, equally exhausted from relentless work, felt relieved at the chance to rest even briefly during the morning.

Sikar had abruptly canceled the morning council to explain to Kian why Gillian’s execution must be delayed.

However, he omitted the fact that Yura Blake might disappear. Perhaps because of this, Kian’s reaction carried an air of incomprehension.

“Is that really okay?”

“It’s just one possible approach.”

Somehow, whenever the two were alone together, they naturally conversed as father and son.

“But if we let Gillian live, won’t he become a threat?”

“Everyone loyal to Gillian has been eliminated. There’s no danger.”

“What if he gathers people and returns later?”

“By then, you’ll have grown much stronger.”

The idea of becoming stronger excited Kian slightly.

“Can I become stronger than Father?”

“Of course. Much stronger than me.”

Kian, who had been eyeing Sikar with suspicion, gradually brightened.

“Then you handle it, Father. As you said, it might be better to let Gillian live than for me to become a king who executed his own blood relative.”

Sikar would have preferred Kian to become a cold, decisive ruler who wouldn’t hesitate to execute Gillian. But he couldn’t reveal that Yura might vanish.

Meanwhile, for Kian, Yura’s palace entry date mattered far more than Gillian’s fate.

“But will this delay Mother’s entry into the palace?”

“Of course not. I intend to settle everything conclusively during the council after lunch today.”

“Oh, by the way—have you decided which palace we’ll use?”

“I’m thinking of using Daisy Palace, formerly occupied by the princess. What do you think?”

Kian smiled brightly and held out his palm toward Sikar—a gesture asking for a high-five.

“You really do think of everything.”

Sikar clapped his hands together with an air of mild annoyance.

“But why make such a gesture?”

“It just felt like a good idea. I heard Daisy Palace is the closest among the vacant palaces.”

“Fine. Then I’ll issue orders immediately to clean Daisy Palace.”

“Can’t she come tomorrow, right away?”

Kian, gazing up with rabbit-like wide eyes, looked utterly adorable—a mere ten-year-old child.

Sikar himself longed for Yura to enter the palace tomorrow, but it simply wasn’t feasible to arrange it so abruptly.

“It’s too difficult to arrange immediate entry. Let’s set it for one week from now.”

Kian’s face showed slight disappointment, but he nodded as if accepting the decision.

“If it really must be done that way… I understand.”

“We need time to clean and decorate the palace. A week is the most reasonable timeframe.”

“You said decorate? Then I want to help decorate too!”

“How?”

Daisy Palace earned its name because daisies once bloomed throughout its grounds. After Veronia left the palace, all flowers withered, leaving only overgrown weeds—an abandoned ruin.

Remembering this, Kian had a bright idea.

“We should clear all the weeds and vines, then plant roses—Mother’s favorite.”

Sikar had planted roses in the lawn visible from Yura’s room, symbolizing his wish for her to grow a bit sharper, less soft. But seeing Kian so joyfully enthusiastic, Sikar couldn’t bring himself to explain the truth.

“Fine, let’s do it that way. And after we move in, let’s make an inspection tour to further win the people’s hearts.”

“Inspection tour…?”

“Thanks to your previous aid to the poorhouse, public sentiment toward House Blake improved. Visiting again would help maintain that goodwill. What do you think?”

“Mm. I’ll do as you say, Father. I’ll tour all the poorhouses in Lecador and carefully assess the people’s circumstances.”

“Excellent.”

Sikar almost reached out to ruffle Kian’s hair—but stopped himself. Though Kian was still young enough to appreciate such affection, it was no longer appropriate for a king.

“And I have something to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Train the twins to become my personal knights.”

In the original story, among all the people Kian had met, only the twins radiated truly trustworthy warmth.

Sikar understood that Kian, as if bound by fate, couldn’t help but insist on them.

“I was planning to do exactly that anyway.”

Kian averted his gaze from Sikar and held out his fist.

‘Ah, he wants a fist bump this time.’

Sikar chuckled at the sight of adorable Kian and bumped fists with him.

“I’ll indulge you once. But never again—not high-fives, not fist bumps. If you ever try to do this again in the future…”

“What if it’s a royal command?”

“…That’s called tyranny.”

Sikar thought Kian would understand and never ask again. But Kian didn’t yield at all.

“Then I’ll have to be tyrannical toward you, Father.”

“Tyrannical?”

“From now on, whenever I hold out my palm, you clap. Whenever I hold out my fist, you bump it.”

“…Are you seriously asking me to do this childish thing? Even for a king, it’s utterly undignified.”

Sikar braced himself for Kian’s next retort—but Kian merely hung his head, looking deeply dejected.

Seeing Kian’s shoulders slump strangely unsettled Sikar’s heart.

“Fine.”

It was a reluctant concession, spoken because Sikar’s heart softened at the sight of Kian’s disappointed, slumped posture.

The moment Kian heard Sikar’s affirmative reply, he beamed and immediately held out his fist again, as if he’d been waiting.

“Practice.”

Oddly enough, Sikar’s rising irritation faded each time he saw Kian smiling gently and offering his fist.

When did I become so soft? I’ve never been like this before.

His own unexpectedly gentle demeanor left him baffled.

Sikar, who had been smirking, suddenly composed his expression and bumped fists with Kian.

Before the royal council, Sikar had lunch with Kian.

Reidox had become Kian’s chancellor, and Durion temporarily assumed command of the palace guard.

Vika Lamberst, serving temporarily as palace steward, monitored Kian’s entourage with keen ears and sharp, far-seeing eyes.

It was a temporary post, meant only until trustworthy figures could fill the roles permanently.

Most critically, he oversaw the inspection of Kian’s meals.

“You’ve definitely removed all shellfish, correct?”

“Yes, Palace Steward.”

“If His Majesty experiences even the slightest discomfort, your head will roll.”

“I always keep that in mind.”

Only after receiving the palace head chef’s firm assurance did Vika allow Kian to begin his meal.

“Please eat now, Your Majesty.”

At first, Kian had found these procedures unfamiliar and awkward, but now he was entirely accustomed to them.

But Vika still wasn’t used to them.

After lunch, while Kian changed clothes, Vika stood beside Sikar, who was seated reviewing documents.

“How long must I remain in the palace?”

“Until His Majesty can freely command everyone within the palace.”

“…That’s far too vague.”

“Until it’s fully ingrained in his body and soul that he is master of this palace—and master of all Lecador.”

“So you’re saying you don’t know when that’ll be.”

“Serve His Majesty well. He might whimsically refuse to lift my curse. And if my curse remains unbroken, our oath won’t be broken either—you know that.”

“So we die together, then.”

That blasted oath. Vika, for the first time in ages, clutched his own head in frustration—regretting ever having accepted it.

“I’ve done this much already—surely it’s time to release me, you conscienceless Duke!”

“If the oath breaks, where would you even go? You have nowhere else to be.”

“I could go anywhere—as long as you’re not around. You, who imprisoned a free Dark Elf, have no conscience.”

“That’s not freedom—it’s indulgence, Vika. When I first saw you, you were like a fearless, wild beast cub.”

“Well, of course. I had nothing to fear. I was a fearless Dark Elf—until you ruined me.”

Sikar had no patience to listen to Vika’s chatter.

“Enough chatter. Prepare for the meeting.”

“It’s not chatter—it’s conversation! Seriously, when will you ever let me—”

“I’m reminded of when the king used to put candy in your mouth.”

Vika was dumbfounded. Just as young Kian would casually pop candy into his own mouth, Sikar was now implying he should stuff candy into Vika’s mouth to silence him.

“Are you really going to do this? Everything you wanted has worked out perfectly. Don’t you think it’s time to set me free?”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“But only after Kian has fully adapted to palace life.”

Vika’s previously flushed and frustrated face brightened slightly. From observing Kian closely, he knew the boy was clever and learned quickly—he’d surely adapt to palace life in no time.

“If that’s the condition, I won’t complain.”

“But only until Kian becomes a ruler capable of commanding anyone.”

“Of course.”

Vika smiled, his face as light as if he’d already gained freedom.

“Now then, the ministers are waiting. Shall we rise?”

During the royal council, various state affairs were discussed, but the most critical issue of the day was Gillian’s execution.

The ministers urged immediate execution tomorrow, insisting the matter must be swiftly resolved to lay the cornerstone for the new monarchy’s dawn.

It was, in truth, no different from displaying loyalty to Kian.

Kian, gazing calmly at the ministers as if to elevate his royal dignity, spoke.

“Gillian Lecador is a deposed former king, but he shares blood with me—my kin. Therefore, I intend not to execute him, but to imprison him instead.”

The ministers rolled their eyes as if bewildered by this sudden, unexpected declaration—but dared not object, only glancing nervously at Sikar and Reidox standing on either side of Kian. They could only reply, “As Your Majesty wishes.”

‘Today, I should lift the ministers’ spirits a little.’

If they kept walking on eggshells, the nobles would gradually suffocate. Kian softened his authoritative expression and offered a gentle smile.

“I fully understand your concern for me. But now, no royal relative remains to threaten my throne—so kindly embrace the magnanimity of your sovereign.”

Though it was a unilateral decision, by appealing emotionally, he effectively secured the ministers’ consent.

Kian’s handling of the situation made the ministers feel as if they’d been granted the right to speak before their king.

“Next: the sentencing of Rafe and Dienne. What do you think should be done with them?”

“Rafe and Dienne must be executed immediately tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“Then let it be so.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And one more important matter remains.”

Since all previously scheduled agenda items had already been settled, the ministers looked puzzled.

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

“I’m considering granting a palace to my father, Duke Blake, and my mother, Duchess Blake. What are your thoughts?”

This time, the ministers refused to let it pass—they widened their eyes and hardened their expressions.

“That is unacceptable.”

“It is unprecedented for non-royals to reside within the palace.”

Reidox, as if waiting for this moment, placed Veronia’s official decree prominently on the table.

“This is a decree sent by Her Highness Princess Veronia. Do you still intend to oppose it?”

The ministers took turns examining the decree—and could raise no further objections.

“We… have confirmed Her Highness Princess’s decree… we also agree.”

Perhaps Sikar had anticipated this and subtly prompted praise. What a dependable father.