Previously
Sid Repos searches in vain for Iris after she plunges into the frozen river, taking the sudden appearance of a full moon as an omen that he is destined to become king. Far to the south in Kawat, Heyer Asheri and the Tehas Knights fend off aggressive creatures crossing from the forbidden land.
The King Is Born on the Road.
Heyer rummaged through his pockets, then turned to Ato, leader of the Kawat warriors fighting alongside the knights.
“Got a smoke?”
“Why must you bleed a flea dry every single time?”
Though Ato grumbled, he handed over a cigarette along with a light.
“Even I, having lived far longer than you, Commander, have almost no memory of a full moon. I’ve only ever seen it lacking just a little. Isn't this the first time a full moon has risen over Luwan since the late king passed?”
“It is.”
“A full moon rising now must mean a new king has appeared somewhere in Luwan.”
With those words, Ato looked at Heyer.
Ato, like other Kawat people, did not consider himself a subject of Luwan, but he was certain his heart would change if Heyer were to become king.
Hearing the excitement Ato failed to hide in his voice, Heyer chuckled.
“I suppose.”
“Ah, why so lukewarm? Fine, suppose you aren't of the royal bloodline. But no matter what, Her Majesty the Queen bore you, didn't she?”
“Even if I were my father’s trueborn son, I have an older brother. How could I covet the throne when a legitimate firstborn son stands before me?”
King Eswa, whom Heyer had grown up believing to be his father, suffered from a staggering inferiority complex regarding his own bloodline.
The moment he suspected his second son was not of his own flesh and blood, that insecurity worsened, driving him to want Heyer dead on the spot.
Should a sage from another land ever arrive and bring the truth to light, the king would undoubtedly strip Heyer of everything and execute him without hesitation.
The knights and the Kawat people alike assumed Heyer possessed no ambition for the throne purely because of his bloodline.
More than the full moon, they all found far greater amusement in watching Heyer.
One’s eyes were drawn first to his fair, flawless skin—smooth as set milk—and his healthy, handsome physique, before drifting up to a face that held an elegant dignity so long as he kept his mouth shut.
Gazing up at the moon, Heyer spoke to Diren, who stood clenching his fists in a desperate effort to fight back tears, overwhelmed by the hopes of those wishing for Heyer to become king.
“Kid, was the last time the moon was full twenty-five years ago?”
“…I don't know.”
Heyer chuckled silently at the sullen reply, then regarded the moon with a composure that surpassed anyone else present.
Just then, the head maid came hurrying over carrying a coat.
“Goodness, it's January, Commander, January!”
“Ah, thank you.”
Heyer did not feel the cold much, but seeing how terribly worried the servants and his subordinates looked, he had no choice but to slip into the coat.
Sensing his desire for a drink, Ato poured liquor into a cup he had brought and offered it to him.
“That moon is for you, Commander. Mark my words. That’s how it will be.”
Ato was certain of it. Heyer tossed back another mouthful of liquor and looked up at the sky without answering.
The piercingly white full moon was wondrous beyond measure. After gazing at it for a moment, Heyer headed straight for the stables.
Diren, catching on quickly, came running with a saddle in hand.
“Where are you going?”
“To House Asheri.”
“F-For what—ah!”
Diren’s face brightened.
“You're going to get treated!”
“Yes.”
A full moon meant the emergence of one destined to be king.
Seeing that moon, Heyer had seen hope—the possibility that he might become king. Diren believed it with all his heart.
Hopping excitedly, Diren chimed in,
“It’s a sign. It has to be! There must be a way!”
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Yes, Commander!”
While Diren replied, Heyer spurred his mount, immediately breaking into a gallop.
Diren waved toward Heyer’s receding figure and shouted,
“Bring back something delicious!”
Whether the boy's shout reached him or not, Heyer’s shaking shoulders even from behind made it clear he had burst out laughing.
* * *
The instant Iris plunged into the icy water, she fought to keep her senses.
She knew that losing consciousness here meant the end.
Having grown up in a convent that was inherently freezing and scarcely heated, combined with her mind’s lingering memory of the brutal cold endured on the path to the North Gate, her body seemed to respond, allowing her to narrowly retain consciousness.
Because she kept her head cradled in both hands to protect herself from being battered by the torrent, blood streamed from wounds covering her arms.
Before long, she reached the shore.
Practicing holding her breath for even a single week to expand her lung capacity had been unexpectedly helpful. Even so, she had been starved of air, and her awareness wavered on the brink of fading.
A violent wind blew on top of it, tormenting Iris with a paralyzing cold.
Yet she could not afford to rest and forced her steps toward her destination. The gale felt as though it were clawing at every inch of her flesh, but she had no alternative.
After she walked for several hours like that, the sun crested the horizon.
The earth seemed to drag her body down with all its might. Having held out for as long as she could, Iris finally collapsed in a heap.
Had it been an impossible escape after all?
As the thought crossed Iris’s mind, a gentle warmth touched her.
Opening her eyes, she found a fox with pure white fur licking her face.
“Ah, a white fox…”
The white fox was the symbol of House Asheri.
Iris realized she had safely arrived in the territory of House Asheri.
The white fox seemed extraordinarily fond of humans; not content with merely licking the face of a complete stranger, it burrowed into her embrace as if delighted, sharing its warmth.
Thanks to the creature’s warmth, Iris barely managed to gather her wits and sat up.
“Thank you.”
Whether it understood her gratitude or not, the white fox shook out its fur, which had grown damp from nestling against her soaked body.
Just then, the sound of leisurely footsteps approached, and an old man of seventy made his presence known.
“Who might you be? You appear to belong to House Repos, but…”
Cradling the white fox as it snuggled back into her arms, Iris looked toward the old man. It was the patriarch of House Asheri, seventy-year-old Litero Asheri.
House Asheri’s symbolic animal had become the white fox because of the family’s sly nature.
As far as Iris remembered, even after the war broke out, House Asheri—situated on the border—had sided with neither Luwan nor Suyeo for a long time.
When Luwan requested troops, they would plead that their proximity to Suyeo meant sending forces would bring about their utter ruin. Then, the moment they sensed Luwan’s defeat was imminent, they drove Luwan into a corner from Suyeo's side.
They hid their claws to ensure absolute victory.
They were people who would unfailingly side with the victor, and among them, the patriarch Litero Asheri was one who vividly embodied that cunning disposition.
Iris gazed quietly at Litero Asheri.
Around this time, actual power over House Asheri was already shifting to Litero’s eldest son, Flodin Asheri.
The current Litero Asheri could do little more than act according to his son’s wishes.
His eldest daughter, Pionia Repos, was the queen, allowing him to seek some degree of favor there, but the moment the scandal erupted that she had borne Heyer by a paramour, he lost what remaining power he had.
In truth, the nobles of Luwan did not place much value on education.
Amid such an atmosphere, House Asheri was the only house that forced its internal heirs to study until the brink of death.
Iris considered that education was likely the survival strategy House Asheri had realized on its own after having once produced a traitor in the distant past and facing absolute ostracism.
When Iris merely looked at him without answering, the old man asked once more,
“Are you unwell in any way?”
She thought it entirely characteristic of the patriarch of the white fox family to address an intruder who had appeared out of nowhere in the dead of night with such exquisite deference, simply because she appeared to be of House Repos.
Iris parted her lips.
“My name is Iris Repos.”
“A name I have never heard of… Ah.”
Litero smiled.
“You must be Princess Celios’s daughter.”
Iris was certain the old man had recognized who she was the moment he laid eyes on her. Seeing such an oily, shrewd display of playing dumb, she was suddenly reminded of Heyer Asheri.
He, too, possessed this slippery streak. It was obvious where that trait had come from.
Litero gestured to the butler following right beside him, and the butler soon directed the servants to bring blankets and fire.