Thompson's POV
"The king's directive is to enhance border security, implement checkpoints at building entrances, and reassign some staff positions," Louis explains.
As the nurse examines Diana's injuries, I excuse myself and head to the office building where high-ranking officials work. My father's office is on the top floor. Inside, I notice employees rushing with paperwork.
Although I'm curious, I'm still in the dark about the situation. I reach my father's grand office doors.
Without knocking, I push open the door and step into the room, greeted by the expansive space that unfolds before me. The first thing that captures my attention is the grand glass table, positioned strategically opposite the entrance. Its surface gleams in the soft ambient light, reflecting a pristine sheen that adds an air of elegance to the room.
Directly behind the table, there stands a regal sight—the flag of the kingdom, proudly displayed in all its colorful glory. It billows gently in the room's gentle currents, evoking a sense of patriotism and history that seems to fill the very air.
To the right, a cozy sitting area beckons invitingly. Plush armchairs and a sumptuous sofa are arranged in a harmonious ensemble, their rich, deep hues contrasting beautifully with the room's neutral palette. It's a place that seems designed for moments of relaxation and contemplation, with a low coffee table poised between the seats, holding the promise of spirited conversations or quiet solitude.
My gaze then drifts to the left side of the room, where an imposing bookshelf stretches upward, its towering shelves crammed with an impressive array of books, both old and new. The titles are a testament to the room's occupant, revealing a keen intellect and diverse interests. The worn spines of classics nestle beside the sleek jackets of modern bestsellers, forming a mosaic of literary treasures.
Adjacent to the bookshelf, a discreet door hints at a storage room.
One wall is adorned with portraits of past kings, while the other is bulletproof glass. Despite visiting only a few times since my return, I notice my father addressing two men seated in front of him.
Initially, he appears angry but softens when he sees me. "Just in time, Thompson," he greets.
The two men turn their attention to me—one in a suit and the other dressed more modestly. I stand beside the table and extend a courteous greeting.
"Shall we move to the sitting area?" my father suggests, leading the way.
We all take our seats. "This is Sir Frederick, the royal adviser of Lite," the man in the suit introduces himself, shaking my hand. "And I'm a royal messenger from Santabias," the other man says as we exchange greetings.
"I'm Thompson, heir to the Roletto throne. What brings you here?" I inquire.
"The primary point of contention revolves around the ball attack. As of now, the group, crew, or association behind the assault remains unidentified. However, we've managed to recover this emblem." The personal adviser places a sheet of paper onto the coffee table in front of us.
On the paper, there's an emblem featuring two crossed knives with a deceased bird symbol at its center, rendered in red and black. It's the very same emblem I recall seeing on the uniforms of the masked men.
"The snipers," my father remarks as he examines the emblem.
"We've come here because you have a personal vendetta against the snipers." the messenger says then presents a scroll from the queen of Santabias.
Once again, a scrollI , such an archaic method of communication. What happened to using email?"
"I'll review this later," my father declared as he dropped the scroll onto the table. "Regarding the snipers, I thought we had wiped them out completely."
"Well, it appears someone with the same vision has resurrected their cause," the adviser replied.
Curiosity piqued, I inquired, "What personal issues do you have with the snipers?"
"They sought unrestricted access in and out of my kingdom, and I couldn't allow it," he explained. "I banned them from entry, but some of them had lovers within our borders. It escalated into a war. Their numbers were substantial, so we couldn't handle it alone. Our allies, including Santabias, Lite, Midnight Crest, Red Mood, and our present enemy, Christoria, came to our aid to eliminate them. Later, we discovered they had ambitions beyond free entry; they aimed to seize the throne."
I remember the snipers, a covert organization bent on plundering kingdoms for resources. Their first attempt to seize a throne occurred with Roletto. It happened before I left, back when my mother was alive.
The first six years of my life here, I had royal lessons, which is why I know so much about the kingdom. My mother made sure I took them seriously. The only time I had fun was at royal gatherings, where I met friends who were children of high-ranking officials.
During the war against the snipers, my sisters (Margaret, Angela, Matilda, and Jane) and I were kept in a safe house. It was a few months after the war that my mother was killed by the king of Christoria. Since that day, I've despised Christoria and desired to destroy their kingdom.
I believe my father has sinister plans for their kingdom, although he hasn't shared them with me yet. Diana is a key part of those plans.
For now, we need to focus on eliminating The Snipers permanently.
"We noticed that at the party, they only targeted the four mentioned kingdoms, including ours," the adviser said. "What's even stranger is that they didn't attack people from Christoria. If it was a revenge plot, why spare Christoria?"
"Could they be behind the attack?" the messenger asked.
"Christoria wouldn't dare oppose us; they have the weakest army," my father replied.
"They had the weakest army thirteen years ago. They might have improved. They've been silent, avoiding international events and trade. I believe they're planning something big," the adviser added.
"Since you mention it, the Ball was the first event they attended in thirteen years," the messenger noted.
"Send spies into their kingdom for more intel," my father ordered. "One spy from each kingdom. We must defeat them before they can even plan against us."
"Yes, your majesty," they responded.
After the formalities, they left my father and me in the office. I sat across from him.
"Dad, you need to involve me in your plans. I'm a prime target in all of this," I urged.
"I understand your desire to be involved, but you need to learn and understand everything," my father replied.
"I know, but when will I be fully ready? Let me participate and learn along the way. I'll still study on my own, but let me be part of the process."
He nodded, considering my request. Then he sighed deeply and said, "If you want to be involved, Diana has to be involved too."
"Diana, the Lorenzo girl?" I expressed my disgust.
"She's your fiancée and the future queen. She needs to be equally involved," my father insisted.
"I'm tired of everyone reminding me of that," I grumbled. "We're engaged because I was forced into it."
"You're not engaged yet. You still need to sign a contract with her. For now, consider it as courting," he clarified.
"Look, Dad, I don't know what you have planned for her, but it seems foolish to put the daughter of an enemy on our throne," I protest
"It's to intimidate them, son," he explain
"Intimidate them? Royals don't scare each other," I argue
"Somebody from their kingdom is leading the charge to stop them. They might hesitate due to fear."
"Who says that? They could just capture her and eliminate us."
"Don't underestimate me, my son. Scaring them is part of it, but there's more complexity to grasp. You're too young to see the bigger picture. Why don't you focus on your studies? You'll understand why everyone supports this plan."
"I don't buy it." I'm furious. How dare he speak to me like a child! "What's to stop her from betraying us?"
"She has no ties left with her family. I ensured that," he says, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers. "Once I'm through with her, trust me, she'll be on our side."
I stared at him, feeling like he was hiding something. He had a devious smirk on his face.
He is keeping secrets from me. I know my father is a cunning king, but it seems he has something incredibly sinister in mind, and I want to know everything.
"I need an office," I demand
"Talk to Slate on your way out," he dismisses me, returning to his scrolls.
I storm out, annoyed. My father needs to show me more respect. Picking up my phone, I call Slate. "Get me an office ready by tomorrow morning," I ordered and ended the call.