Chapter 55
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With a light nudge, Kyle urged Everette ahead from his spot near the entrance.
“See the family resemblance?”
Curiosity sparked in Edwin’s gaze as it flicked toward the newcomer at those words.
For an instant, Edwin locked eyes with Everette.
Awareness dawned on Everette then about Kyle’s prior comment.
He grasped the comparison being drawn.
The ruler cut a striking figure, his hair dark as midnight, eyes gleaming gold like noon light.
Everette shared that raven hue—uncommon here in the Regency Empire, yet typical far east—and possessed amber irises.
Their statures matched nearly, off by mere inches, frames comparable.
From select perspectives, facial traits echoed faintly.
A master painter pouring skill into Everette’s likeness could craft something eerily close to Edwin’s visage.
Even Edwin spotted the echoes between his own countenance and this eastern villager’s guard features without effort.
A crease formed on Edwin’s forehead.
To Edwin, it resembled a crude sketch from an unskilled hand.
Kyle detected the reluctant recognition in that subtle furrow.
Edwin appeared irked, yet Kyle took heart that the likeness struck others too.
“Admit it—they could pass for kin, yeah?”
Edwin’s scowl deepened amid Kyle’s enthusiasm.
Those sunlit eyes roamed Everette’s features with visible hesitation.
Admission felt forced upon him.
Edwin reflected silently that he had never claimed such a mirror image existed.
Everette sympathized yet nursed a quiet sense of injustice.
Kyle brimmed with satisfaction regardless, a fresh fix crystallizing for his nagging dilemma.
“During the ancient realm’s era,”
He plunged into his brainstormed fix.
The notion landed suddenly on the pair, but the spark in his emerald stare warned against cutting in.
Skepticism etched Edwin and Everette’s faces as they tuned in.
“Eastern legends spoke of shadow knights.”
The lore rang familiar across these lands, familiar even to unlettered Everette.
Old stories wove it often.
Capital dwellers like Edwin encountered it fresh, so Kyle sketched the basics.
“Powerful nobles once favored choosing bodyguards mirroring their own looks. Dubbed shadow knights, they served in silence.”
Kyle lingered on “mirroring their own looks,” scanning Everette deliberately.
Eyes clashed once more, fleetingly, draining strength from Everette’s stance.
Dark portents stirred within.
His gut proved spot on.
“Decoys against killers, or proxies in tight spots.”
Clarity hit Everette on Kyle’s motive for dragging him into this.
The captain’s earlier clues explained the sovereign’s trek to this outlying domain.
Everette cursed his own folly in parading a minor brush with glory.
He should have bowed his head as the captain advised.
Regret arrived pointless now.
“You’re pitching him as my shadow knight?”
Edwin’s brow arched as insight synced with Everette’s, his tone laced with distaste.
Everette, versed in the grim ends awaiting such roles, rooted for Edwin inwardly.
Undeterred by the icy glare, Kyle pressed on.
“Enemy raids from the coalition surge lately. A distraction pulls their focus, freeing His Majesty to act unbound.”
Locked on his sharp ploy against a thorny issue, Kyle dug in.
“No one buys him as me on show alone. Drop this folly.”
“Just flash him backline—spares His Majesty frontline risks for once.”
Kyle, long rankled by Edwin’s frontline charges, fired back swift.
Early defeats demanded it, but with momentum shifted, why persist? No successor lingered.
His push burned from bottled worries.
Edwin belonged back in the palace ages ago.
Emperors rarely waged war; rarer still, absent from the heartland for years in a millennium of rule.
Edwin’s rare capital jaunts saw fronts crumble fast, binding even Kyle’s pleas.
Safety nets screamed urgent now.
Battles forgave no single slip amid endless triumphs.
Coalition schemes honed deadlier on Edwin himself.
Kyle’s case, fueled by resolve and reason, hammered home.
Everette stood powerless amid the clash deciding his path.
He absorbed the back-and-forth in stillness.
His inner cheers fell flat; Kyle claimed victory.
Edwin yielded through sheer irritation.
Triumph lit Kyle’s face as he released Edwin.
“Our host readies a banquet,”
he noted, signaling solitude till supper, prompting Edwin’s dismissive flaps.
“Enough—my head throbs. Leave.”
Kyle offered a crisp salute before guiding Everette to his quarters.
There, he waved off the servants prepping for nobility.
“Name your prize.”
His tone rang saintly, temple-pure.
Elation from success, or easing distrust, curved Kyle’s lips wide.
To Everette, Kyle morphed into a vile summoner bartering lives for fiends.
The impression gripped hard.
Everette traced a mental ward sign.
Useless against mere mortal schemes.
Kyle paused, expectant, then added.
“No wishes? I’ll select fitting payment.”
Everette, rooted in lowly ways, decoded the subtext.
Refusal barred, yet courtesy dictated payoff.
Noble mercy, unwanted.
Trampled grass though he be, this rankled.
Fate twisted by others, payout their call.
Still, Everette reined in resentment.
A commoner’s savvy bent to fate’s curve.
Thus began his tenure as Edwin’s shadow knight, evolving to adjutant.
Reflecting years on, endurance proved wise.
Staring down Kyle that day ranked life’s pinnacle choice.
Impersonation demanded sword drills echoing Edwin’s, riding finesse, mimicry toil.
No genius here, scant blade gift, Kyle’s bar sky-high.
Pretenses courted death more than once.
Yet Kyle honored his vow with lavish amends.
Everette still jolted from dreams swapping duty that shift—unchanged obscurity.
