The dukes’ official arrival began at first light. I woke up around 6:00 AM, ate a couple of eggs with sausage, and then headed to the main hall.

  Not before putting on the proper clothes: a black leather doublet, a red cape, dark hose, and brown boots. The outfit looked incredible on me—the castle tailor had made it specifically for me.

  And he’d done an excellent job.

  According to Gonzalo, the dukes normally arrived individually, each with their own retinue, moving independently. But this was a special situation: the tournament celebrating my coronation was about to begin, and by Etrica’s customs, the dukes were meant to arrive at the same time.

  The next day would be the opening banquet, and the day after that, the tournament festivities would begin.

  The time for fun was over.

  “You’re here early, Sir Marte,” I said.

  My personal guard and legendary knight stood beside my throne. He was armored from head to toe, but this time his bascinet was open so he wouldn’t hide his face from the dukes.

  There were no courtiers, and no other guards outside my household.

  Only Sir Marte was here.

  “I needed to make sure everything was in order,” he replied. “Today is the most important day of your reign.”

  “I know,” I said, settling into the throne. “The chairs are ready too.”

  This wasn’t a normal meeting.

  In front of me were five golden chairs set with diamonds and precious stones. They were placed just below the step—so the king’s superiority was still clear—but they were the only seats in the main hall.

  In other words: only the dukes could sit before the king. Everyone else—courtiers, soldiers, servants—would remain standing, as tradition demanded.

  “I’ve ordered the Royal Guard to secure the hall’s surroundings,” Sir Marte continued. “The soldiers will patrol every inch of the palace.”

  “Very good, Sir Marte. I’m counting on you for the palace’s security these days. If anything happens, you have my permission to act however you see necessary.”

  “At your command, Your Highness.”

  We said nothing else. Sir Marte stayed on the right side of the throne, calm and ready for any incident. As leader of the Royal Guard, this had to be one of the most tense moments of his post.

  At least since the Vlad II incident seven years ago.

  The dukes won’t be long now.

  As queen regent, Girasol León arrived minutes later. Mother wore her usual black dress, a silver crown (a reminder of her position as regent), and the gold scepter crowned with jewels.

  She looked ready for anything.

  Mother still carried the title of the most beautiful woman in the kingdom—something she had used to her advantage to secure treaties and agreements with high-ranking nobles. She herself had said that using every tool at your disposal was essential in this game.

  “The dukes have already arrived,” she informed me. “The courtiers are tending their horses and assigning their garrisons. Only the dukes and two bodyguards will enter the throne room. No more, no less. The rest will remain in the courtyard.”

  The news made my nerves spike.

  They were already in my palace…

  It was only a matter of time before they were gathered here, for the first time in my life. I’d dealt with some of them separately, but never together. You could say this was my first true trial as a ruler.

  “Your Highness, I’m here.”

  Behind Mother, Ingrid Wall’s presence left me slightly thrown off.

  Why did she decide to come?

  She wore a black dress as well, making her white hair and honey-colored eyes stand out even more. Honestly, I was surprised to see her here—especially because many nobles still didn’t approve of Ingrid’s presence.

  “Ingrid?”

  “Yes. Lady Girasol allowed me to attend,” she said. “She says I need to get used to dealing with the dukes.”

  Ingrid didn’t look confident at all. Her nervous expression reminded me of the first time I saw her: frightened and terrified of the future.

  I couldn’t blame her.

  I felt the same.

  “You know the rules, Ingrid,” Mother added with a final warning. “Do not speak unless you’re addressed. Understood?”

  “I know…”

  A grave silence followed for several minutes. The waiting was killing me. From here, the footsteps of courtiers, servants, and guards were completely inaudible. I didn’t know who built this palace, but it swallowed noise perfectly—maybe because of the space between the floor and the ceiling.

  Or maybe it was the walls.

  No idea. I knew nothing about castle construction.

  Hearing even a little noise would’ve helped right now, because the nobles could arrive at any moment.

  All right. Calm down, Ulric. You’ve prepared your whole life for this. You can’t let them see you as weak. Go all in.

  At last, the massive wooden doors opened, and the dukes appeared. They entered one by one, in a single file line, each accompanied by two bodyguards.

  Steven Black Vase took his seat, accompanied by two massive warriors carrying battle axes. The duke was as tall as Sir Marte Hogan. His beard still held faint brown streaks, a reminder of his best years.

  Even so, I wouldn’t challenge Duke Steven to combat.

  “Your Highness, I have answered the call,” Steven said.

  He wore a blue doublet and purple hose. He carried no cape, but he did wear a bear-shaped medallion.

  “Thank you again for the favor you did for me. Ronaldo has improved greatly since he returned home—so much that he’ll participate in the swordsmanship tournament.”

  “It’s my pleasure to help, Duke Steven. Are things going well in the Duchy of Florinda?”

  “They’re going wonderfully, Your Highness.”

  “Good.”

  I turned to the next noble: Duchess Sabrina—my greatest detractor, and also the one with the best relationship with the Kingdom of Apollo.

  “Duchess Sabrina, it’s a pleasure to have you in my palace.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Your Highness. Soon you will be crowned, and I didn’t want to miss such a magnificent event. I wish you good health.”

  Sabrina wasn’t as beautiful as Mother. Her best years were long behind her, and the wrinkles on her cheeks did her no favors.

  Still, her violet dress was extremely high quality—almost as good as Mother’s.

  Next came perhaps the most extravagant noble of all.

  Duke Nepomuceno was two meters and five centimeters tall—he was even taller than my personal bodyguard.

  A true giant.

  But he wore no doublet and not a hint of armor. Instead, he displayed an enormous floral arrangement covering his dark skin; he also wore a crown of flowers whose scent I’d never smelled before.

  On his back hung a bow made from some unknown wood. He carried no arrows, and his two bodyguards—nearly as tall as him—were unarmed as well.

  This was my first meeting with Duke Nepomuceno, and he surprised me more than I expected.

  Gonzalo had told me the culture of the Duchy of Chiapa was very different from the rest of Etrica. Originally, they were a tribe that lived in dense jungles, isolated from everyone.

  However, three hundred years ago, a religious leader of Chiapa had a vision, and shortly afterward they swore loyalty to the Kingdom of Etrica. The reason for that decision?

  No one knew. Researchers still searched for clues.

  But there were none.

  In any case, their culture differed greatly from the rest.

  “Duke Nepomuceno,” I said, “it’s a pleasure to have you in my castle. Why are your bodyguards unarmed?”

  The giant removed his flower crown and, with a graceful motion, handed it to me.

  “Because my people do not consider it honorable to carry weapons into a friend’s home.”

  “I understand. Thank you, Duke Nepomuceno.”

  I accepted the gift with a smile and, out of courtesy, placed the large crown on my head.

  “I look forward to visiting your home in the future. Your culture fascinates me.”

  “And you will be received with the greatest honor, Your Highness.”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Nepomuceno took his seat after offering a respectful bow. His two guardians stood behind him without a word.

  “Duchess Violeta, it’s a pleasure to have you.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Your Highness.”

  I had little to say about Violeta. I’d seen her at a meeting two years ago, but we barely spoke—she had too many problems with the remnants of the Gray Fist.

  In her letters she’d expressed frustration about rising insecurity near her duchy and had been forced to deploy knights to keep the roads safe and the economy moving.

  “Has my plan to secure your borders against outlaws worked?”

  “Your Highness… you’re touched by something. I truly can’t believe how efficient your idea was.”

  To fight criminals without using cavalry against foreign enemies, I’d decided to form an independent police corps in Violeta’s duchy—separate from the militia.

  Hard as it was to believe, police forces didn’t exist in this world. Public safety was left to the citizens themselves, who organized urban patrols to catch thieves and common criminals; against larger syndicates, they had no chance.

  My idea had two goals:

  First, guarantee the villagers’ safety.

  Second, create an additional garrison in case of siege.

  It wasn’t new. In wartime, police forces could provide more manpower for city defense, especially because many commanders had once served in the armed forces.

  That meant Etrica would have three chains of command—for now:

  Militia troops.

  Men-at-arms (soldiers and knights).

  And now, a national police force.

  With those three elements, my resistance forces were slowly taking shape.

  “I’m glad, Duchess. It’s all for the safety of my vassals—and the people.”

  The last duke stood as I approached.

  Sigfrido arrived in full plate armor, as did his bodyguards. Coming prepared for war told me one thing:

  He intended to fight Apollo.

  And I couldn’t blame him.

  His duchy, bordering our “overlords,” had been hit hardest by Apollo’s nobles. The desire for vengeance and retaliation burned hot in Draco. For Sigfrido, this gathering was the perfect opportunity.

  He wanted war—and he wanted it now.

  Not just him.

  His people were sick of the abuses. Countless farmers, merchants, and villagers had lost loved ones to rampaging nobles and roaming criminals. Protected by foreign aristocracy, they were immune to our laws.

  They couldn’t defend themselves.

  They couldn’t strike back.

  And if they tried, the consequences could be catastrophic. My own father, Lutero León, had died to prevent a mass execution of villagers in Draco.

  “Your Highness,” Sigfrido said, “the hunting of moles and rabbits has borne fruit. Our hunters now shoot with consistency, and your archery tournaments have become an important pastime for my people.”

  “Duke Sigfrido, archery tournaments are held across the kingdom,” I replied, “but in Draco we’ve put greater emphasis on them because rats, moles, and rabbits eat the crops more frequently. It’s all to keep the fields fertile, correct?”

  “Of course, Your Highness.”

  We both knew what we meant.

  I’d sent him a letter two years ago explaining my plans.

  Yes—the archery tournaments were preparing the population. Disguised training. The arrogant Apollans probably believed they were simply hunting little animals to eat.

  In other words: they thought we were starving peasants.

  A huge mistake.

  “Distinguished dukes,” I said, “it is an honor to have you in my palace. These have been difficult years. The kingdom still has a long road ahead, but if we stand together, I’m certain we can build a better tomorrow for Etrica.”

  I paused to breathe. In those seconds, no one spoke—they only stared at me.

  Ingrid and Mother remained silent as well.

  They kept their mouths shut so they wouldn’t disrupt the dukes.

  “This coronation ceremony will take place after the jousts,” I continued. “Knights from across the kingdom have come to test their skill. The finest of chivalry will gather in the capital!”

  I raised both hands to give my words more grandeur. The dukes seemed to appreciate it.

  Then Duchess Sabrina raised her left hand, requesting permission to speak.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Will King Vlad II not attend the ceremony?” she asked.

  The question made perfect sense.

  Where were our supposed overlords?

  I was surprised we’d received neither letter nor retinue from Apollo.

  “I have no news of his arrival,” I answered. “Nor have I received any letters stating whether they’ll send a special delegation. I assume the war has them occupied. In any case, I’ve reserved a room for our lords if they decide to attend.”

  Of course, I didn’t expect any Apollans at my coronation.

  The farther they stayed from my palace, the better.

  “I understand, Your Highness. Thank you for answering.”

  “You’re welcome. In this hall, we are all free to speak and share our views. Now that we are finally gathered, is there anything you wish to discuss?”

  I gave my dukes the floor—and they didn’t hesitate.

  Duke Sigfrido spoke first.

  “Your Highness, your idea of a police corps is correct, but are you sure about having a separate command from the local militia?”

  “Yes, Duke Sigfrido. Orders require clear downward communication. If the militia is already large, adding too many forces at once will clog overall communication between captains and regular members.”

  I took a breath, continuing the speech—and, frankly, showing off for the dukes. I had to prove I was capable and strong as a leader.

  “That’s why it’s better to create an independent chain of command, so orders move faster and efficiency is guaranteed.”

  “Oh—streamlining the chain of command. Well thought out.”

  “Any other questions?” I asked.

  Come on—give me the questions! Gonzalo’s dreadful, boring lessons were paying off.

  “I have one,” Duke Steven said, raising his left hand. “Your Highness—what will we do if Apollo tries to demand more from us? Their war is nearly finished, and I’m sure they’ll use us to repair their finances.”

  “I have a plan for that,” I said. “I discovered a recipe that’s easy to make and will fill the stomachs of the whole population. I call them ‘hamburgers.’ They’re made of two pieces of bread enclosing ingredients—most commonly ground meat mixed with oats and flattened. But anyone can put inside whatever they want.”

  “I don’t understand,” Steven said. “How will that dish help our economy?”

  “Simple,” I replied. “I released the recipe to the commoners, and in the capital it’s been a massive success. It doesn’t require large amounts of raw materials, it’s cheap to sell, it fills the stomach, and it tastes good.”

  I said that last part with my stomach growling.

  Damn, I wanted a hamburger.

  “And how will this ‘hamburger’ help us endure an economic crisis?” Steven pressed.

  His doubts weren’t unreasonable.

  In fact, it was normal to be skeptical of a new—and admittedly ridiculous—idea.

  “Because they’re cheap and easy to produce,” I explained, “they’ll spread through inns, street stalls, and other places. I’ll use the tournament to promote hamburgers among everyone present. You should try them too—it’s food that nobles and commoners can customize to their taste.”

  That was a key point.

  Nobles and peasants would never be equal—at least not in my lifetime. Closing that gap would take six generations.

  Maybe seven.

  “Food that’s the same for everyone?” Steven asked again.

  “Yes,” I said. “The recipe is the same for commoners and nobles, but the ingredients—the quality and flavor—vary with the cook. That way the social gap won’t truly break.”

  “In any case, we’ll boost our economy with this. And I’ve also thought of opening taverns dedicated exclusively to selling hamburgers. For that, I have my fiancée—Ingrid Wall.”

  I gestured to the white-haired girl. She stepped forward.

  This idea had been planned with Mother.

  In theory, it was considered improper for a landed noble to engage in commerce, art, or anything outside noble interests. But Ingrid Wall had no such status. Legally, she was an illegitimate foreigner with no claim to anything.

  Even if she became my wife someday, that wouldn’t change.

  That made her perfect as a front to run my future hamburger businesses across Etrica.

  “Good morning,” Ingrid said, offering a refined bow—surely practiced for months. “I will lend my name to the opening of several hamburger taverns. We will generate jobs, money, and increased food production in the city.”

  “Miss Ingrid, correct?” Steven smiled calmly. “I think I see where this is going. You intend to create revenue through commerce while leaving production tributes intact. Not a bad plan.”

  “Your words honor me, Duke.”

  But Duchess Sabrina sighed.

  “Your Highness, with all due respect, I don’t think placing a foreigner at the head of this is wise. We must not forget that Ingrid Wall is Duke Manius’s daughter—a noble hostile to us.”

  I’d expected that.

  Sabrina had antagonized Mother for years and carried the same resentment toward Ingrid.

  But my dear friend simply returned her a smile.

  I was a hundred percent sure Mother had warned Ingrid about Sabrina’s hostility.

  “Ingrid was trained by my mother, the kingdom’s official Regent,” I said. “I trust her judgment.”

  “And what do you think, Regent?” Sabrina asked Mother directly.

  Mother only nodded.

  “I trust the training I gave her. And the people have gradually begun to like her.”

  Honestly, Sabrina’s comment surprised me.

  First, because of all my dukes, she was the one most aligned with Apollo’s interests.

  To openly call Manius our enemy…

  That was likely a lie to win my favor.

  That woman isn’t stupid. She’ll choose the winning side. I need to be careful with her.

  “Duchess Sabrina,” Violeta cut in, raising her voice. I gave a small nod, granting her the floor. “Are you certain Manius is the enemy, when you’ve been in contact with Apollo’s nobility?”

  Okay.

  I didn’t like that.

  Sabrina’s expression nearly transformed. Her false smile disappeared, replaced by an offended frown.

  “I never said he was an enemy, Duchess Violeta—only that his hostile actions speak for themselves. Besides, he caused great pain to our king, did he not?”

  Oh.

  Damn it.

  That incident had reached high ears.

  By instinct I glanced at Mother, and she made an almost superhuman effort not to react to the painful memory.

  She still had nightmares about that banquet.

  The day Sora died… and Mother’s dignity was destroyed forever.

  She would never admit it out loud, but the humiliation suffered there would be remembered for generations.

  “Enough,” I said sharply, cutting it off. I didn’t want to relive that now—not when I was about to be crowned. “I trust Ingrid. She is not like her father. I expect you to understand my decision. You will not regret it.”

  “As you say, Your Highness,” both women replied with bows, returning to silence.

  Still, it was obvious they didn’t get along.

  The looks they exchanged weren’t friendly—whether because of old rivalry or personal grudges, I didn’t know.

  I’ll have to ask Gonzalo for advice on handling feuding nobles.

  “And you?” I asked. “Duke Nepomuceno—no questions?”

  “No,” the tall man answered. “My people do not ask. We act. And so far you have acted well, Your Highness.”

  “Then we proceed. Ingrid, return to your place. We’ll continue discussing Operation Hamburger later.”

  “Understood.”

  The tension eased, and we shifted into more bureaucratic topics: budget allocations, income, taxes, and other tedious things.

  We kept at it for almost three hours, until I finally ordered a stop.

  “All right. I believe we have discussed matters efficiently,” I said. “We will end for today. My servants will escort you to your rooms. Do not worry about your retinues—they have already been treated with my finest hospitality.”

  I offered the dukes a respectful bow.

  I’d started sweating and hadn’t even noticed.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” they all replied in unison.

  “Go in peace. Tomorrow we will hold a banquet to honor our reunion. For today, rest.”

  Without another word, the dukes bowed and left the throne room.

  “Good work, Your Highness,” Sir Marte Hogan said first. He’d been silent the entire time, which made his comment feel significant.

  I smiled at my strongest knight and leaned back into the throne.

  “Thanks… I’m exhausted. I didn’t think dealing with the dukes would be this hard.”

  “Sir Marte is right, my son—you did well,” Mother added, smiling with pride.

  Feeling supported lifted my morale even higher.

  Encouragement truly improved performance.

  “God, I was so nervous…” Ingrid said, dropping onto the step below the dais and letting out a long, long sigh. “I swear my knees almost buckled when I spoke. You were magnificent—congratulations, Ulric!”

  “You did well too, Ingrid.”

  I stood and patted her head—she’d earned it. She’d stayed cold under pressure and showed determination when the dukes tested her.

  Mother’s training had paid off.

  “T-Thank you, Ulric.” Ingrid blushed, and Mother copied my gesture to praise her as well. “L-Lady Girasol…”

  “You’ve become a skilled court lady,” Mother said warmly. “I’m proud of you, Ingrid.”

  “S-Stop, you’re making me blush,” Ingrid muttered.

  I had to admit she looked cute when she blushed. I wanted to tease her more, but time was tight and protocol still had to be handled.

  “Mother—everything ready for tomorrow’s banquet?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Aura and the maids have everything under control. And I noticed Alda is training her dancing. She seems more worried about the dance than the tournament.”

  Mother let out a small, teasing laugh.

  I couldn’t blame her.

  Alda’s situation was, in fact, funny.

  “We’ve trained for the tournament for years,” I said, “but Alda has never danced with a boy. It’s natural she’s nervous.”

  “And do you think Alda and Sir Percival make a good pair?” Ingrid asked.

  A good question.

  In noble society, dancing together at an important event often meant future engagements—unofficial betrothals, so to speak.

  “Alda will decide whether she likes him or not,” Mother answered. “She’s smart enough to choose correctly.”

  “True,” I added. “Alda isn’t foolish. She’ll see Sir Percival’s true nature. Besides, they’re just getting to know each other. Romance doesn’t happen overnight… right, Ulric?”

  That last line had a double meaning.

  I couldn’t stop myself from blushing. I turned my gaze away to hide it.

  ‘I’ll make you fall in love with me,’ she’d said…

  And it looked like she meant to back it up with action. Typical Ingrid.

  “R-Right,” I stammered. “Romance is serious.”

  “Anyway, we need to inspect the banquet hall and make sure everything is in order,” I said quickly. “Will you come with me, Ingrid?”

  “Of course. I want to see too. Will you come with us, Lady Girasol?”

  “No,” Mother replied. “I have other matters to attend to. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.”

  She turned to Sir Marte.

  “You should do the same, Sir Marte. The Royal Guard is waiting for you to assign the watch rotations.”

  “Indeed,” Sir Marte said. “Then I will take my leave as well, Your Highness.”

  After parting from Mother and Sir Marte, Ingrid and I headed toward the banquet hall…