Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 160 Invitation
Valhalla late at night, outside Thales' bedroom door.

Thales was speechless and extremely embarrassed as he looked at the group of people in front of him.

"How old are you? How old are you?!" A hurried and impatient female voice came from in front of him.

"On your very first night here," the elven guard Ada said with a pained expression, looking at the helpless Thales and the timid little rascal behind him, "you started bringing girls into the bedroom?"

“She’s all alone…” Thales said, feeling wronged.

"So that's why I need your company!" Ada interrupted him, her face darkening.

Rolf and Wyatt, who were standing next to her, exchanged a glance and looked at Thales with strange expressions.

“Ada, listen to me…” Thales instinctively felt something was wrong.

“How old is she! Is she nine?” Ada roared, habitually raising her right fist and sticking out one knuckle.

Thales jolted awake and quickly raised his hands to protect his forehead.

"Boom!"

Thales clutched his right forehead in pain—a foul!
Ada's fierce lash came from the side!
Rolf and Wyatt exchanged glances, both pretending not to have seen the prince being violently assaulted.

The little rascal looked worriedly at Thales, who was dizzy and groaning while clutching his head.

"Mindis didn't touch a woman until he was twenty-seven, when he got married! Even the most lustful and promiscuous Kayla was thirteen!" the furious elven guard shouted.

"At your age... you can't even reach a bed!"

Thales gave an awkward laugh.

That's a bit of an exaggeration, sister.

Eda wanted to continue her sermon, but was stopped by Putilay behind her.

"I think Your Highness has other reasons, is that right?" The deputy envoy of Xingchen said calmly, "Go back, all of you. I will discuss the rest with Your Highness."

After Putila's repeated insistence, Ada left indignant and angry, still wearing a "you little bastard" expression as she left, while Rolf and Wyatt maintained their intriguing and strange expressions.

Thales breathed a sigh of relief and first took the little rascal into the bedroom.

"It seems a lot has happened?" Putile sighed, looking at Thales as he closed the door.

Thales's face darkened.

“Well,” Thales scratched his head, “that person is… um, that is…”

The second prince was about to speak when he suddenly remembered the little rascal's helpless eyes and Alex's pained expression.

Both girls met him in the library, but each experienced a fate that was neither unfortunate nor fortunate.

Thales' eyes dimmed.

No.

The truth behind the little rascal's true identity...

It's not my place to say it.

Finally, the prince sighed inwardly and continued:

“That’s Selma Walton, King Nunn’s granddaughter.”

Putila's eyes flickered, and he said thoughtfully:
“I remember you told me before that the granddaughter of the king that we met in the library should be named Alex Walton?”

“Yes, Alex,” Thales exhaled slowly, “that’s her middle name.”

From his meeting with the Black Prophet to his attempts to frighten Ramon, his lies became increasingly fluent.

He remained calm and composed, his expression unchanged.

“I get along well with her,” Thales shrugged, “so she came to me…”

At this point, Thales paused.

He suddenly realized that it was four or five in the morning!
To conceal what had happened before, he had to fabricate an excuse to have Lady Walton stay overnight in his bedroom...

It's so difficult!
“Um…she, she’s coming,” Thales forced a smile that looked more like a grimace under Putila’s suspicious gaze, “Um, with me…”

Thales forced a smile, stammered, and painfully managed to squeeze out a sentence:

"Together……"

"Discussing historical topics?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Thales felt an urge to slap himself to death.

Seeing Putila's puzzled expression, Thales forced a long face and forced a smile: "You know... we met in the library..."

Thales felt his face hurt from laughing so much, and he rubbed his hands together guiltily.

"She's...very good at history..."

Putila raised an eyebrow slightly, her eyes filled with a strange meaning—which Thales felt could be translated into one sentence:

Keep making things up.

Thales looked at him awkwardly and guiltily.

After a few seconds, Putila slowly let out a sigh.

“Alright, as for why you abducted the King’s granddaughter into the bedroom late at night and even got King Nuen’s permission,” Putilai said with a meaningful smile, “I won’t delve into that.”

Thales twitched his cheek and forced a smile to show his gratitude for the understanding.

Then, Thales, relieved, began to recount King Nunn's proposal.

After listening to the prince's story, Putila frowned deeply.

"So, King Nuen is determined to tie us to his chariot?"

"To prolong Walton's reign?"

Thales nodded sullenly.

“I will report back to the country,” Putila said thoughtfully. “This matter involves too many things, from interests to positions of power…”

“And then there’s the ‘Shadow Shield.’ If they were also part of the group that tried to assassinate me beneath the fortress,” Thales thought, recalling Pefit’s duel with worry. “Although I know they’re sworn enemies with us because of the Crimson Year—but according to Pefit, could they have other motives, or perhaps they were commissioned by someone else?”

Putila's face darkened.

Scenes from twelve years ago flashed before his eyes.

“It’s not that simple,” Putilae finally shook his head slowly in front of Thales. “According to that Grand Duke, they want to kill you in order to ‘take over the Palace of Restoration.’ It’s probably not just about hiring an assassin or revenge…”

"Especially after the Bloodstained Year, the Shadow Shield has disappeared from the Star Kingdom and its allies' sphere of influence for many years under heavy blows."

"But they didn't give up, choosing to assassinate the last bloodline of the Stars in Exter..."

"The Palace of Restoration... So it's all about seizing the throne again?" Thales scratched his head in frustration. "Do we have to find out who's behind those assassins again?"

Putila stared at Thales' expression.

“No, let your father and the secret service worry about this. We just need to ensure your safety,” said the Starry Sky Deputy Envoy, who was good at reading people’s expressions, with a reassuring smile. “You have done enough tonight, and done well enough.”

"The risk of war between Star Kingdom and Exter has disappeared, and Star Kingdom is safe."

Thales' heart skipped a beat, and he looked at Putila.

“This is your achievement,” the latter nodded slightly to him, his eyes full of encouragement and recognition: “I haven’t said much about it… Although I was prejudiced against you before, you are indeed a competent prince.”

With a complex and wistful expression, Putila said slowly, "Not every prince can travel to a foreign land at this age to avert an inevitable war for the country and its people."

Thales took a breath and slowly lowered his head.

Yes.

At least.

The mission has been accomplished.

Despite the twists and turns, it was ultimately a close call.

“Thank you, Putila,” the prince looked up and smiled sincerely, “Thank you all.”

"Without you, without Ada, without Rolf and Wyatt... my journey would probably have ended in the birch forest under the stars."

"Moreover, there's everything that happens after we arrive at Exter and Dragon City."

Putila chuckled softly.

"That was our mission."

“And you made this mission even smoother and more successful,” he nodded frankly, raising an eyebrow. “Gilbert would be very pleased to see you now—back then, the young Crown Prince Midil was no better off on his mission to the north.”

Thales curled his lips into a smile, recalling the elegant middle-aged man, then the dashing Lady Ginny, and then... the taciturn Yordle.

And the little things in the Mindis Hall.

“Get some rest,” Putile said, pointing to the door. “If all goes well, we should be able to go home in a few weeks.”

Thales nodded and pushed open the door.

“Also, the first batch of messenger ravens from the Star Kingdom has arrived,” Putila said with a smile. “One of them is from Gilbert, which I have on my desk.”

Thales' heart skipped a beat.

“Thank you,” he said with a smile, his heart now much calmer after the ups and downs in the Hall of Heroes. “A letter from ‘Star Fox’ is something to look forward to!”

Putila shrugged and raised her eyebrows.

"And one more thing……"

Thales turned around curiously.

Putila hesitated before saying, "You know, your father was quite the womanizer when he was young... He was also very mature for his age..."

Thales narrowed his eyes, looking puzzled.

Putila opened her mouth, looked at Thales, then at the door. Finally, a worried expression appeared on her face, and she whispered:

"but……"

"You're still too young, your body hasn't fully developed yet..."

Thales' smile froze on his face.

Putila blinked awkwardly: "Perhaps we should wait a few more years?"

His response was Thales slamming the door shut with no mercy.

----

“Don’t be afraid,” Thales said, looking at the still-shaken little rascal with a pang of sympathy. “They can’t hurt you here.”

The little rascal, seemingly oblivious, hugged his knees, huddled on the floor beside the bed, and remained silent against the edge of the bed.

Her eyes were fixed on the floor, her hands clutching the cheap dress.

This helpless scene reminded Thales of his past in the abandoned house—and those unfortunate beggar children.

He couldn't help but sigh softly.

“I have to become Miss Walton now, don’t I?” The little rascal noticed his arrival and said dejectedly, “It’s like a dream…”

“Perhaps,” Thales whispered. “No one can change King Nunn’s will.”

The little rascal shuddered, his eyes reddened, and he hugged his shoulders helplessly.

At that moment, Thales felt a deep sadness.

This girl was swept into their dangerous game by the tides of fate. He hesitated for a moment before speaking:

"But this isn't necessarily a bad thing..."

But the little rascal just lowered his head and began to mutter to himself:
"In the Imperial Calendar 1090, the heir to the Duke of Farette in the province of Tatoris Mingus was suspected of having illegitimate blood, and the Imperial Enforcers burned him to death in the Triumphant Capital... In the Final Calendar 552, the Marquis of Libra City of Cornmas, Glenfield, was discovered to be an imposter, and he was hung in the center of the city square by a four-horse carriage..."

Thales felt a chill run down his spine.

"Stop!" he shouted. "Now is not the time for you to rely on your memory!"

The little rascal stopped talking, looked at him with a wronged and pitiful expression, and was on the verge of tears.

"Want to hear a secret?" Thales sighed. "A secret no one knows."

The little rascal's expression slowly changed; she blinked and looked at him in surprise.

“You won’t find this in any book—The Secret History of the Star Prince.” Thales sat down in front of her and shrugged.

The little rascal's eyes lit up, he adjusted his glasses, and nodded.

“You know,” Thales chuckled, recalling the past a little over a month ago, “when I first became a prince, I was just like you, living in constant fear.”

"Become a prince?" the little rascal asked curiously. "Weren't you born a prince?"

“No, I was born a…” Thales hesitated for a moment, then said, “a bastard child who was left out in the world—until he was found and brought back to the court.”

The little rascal gave an "Oh" of sudden realization.

“When they took me back,” Thales smiled helplessly, “I was not used to anything.”

"The food felt strange in my mouth because I was used to eating black bread—in winter, that stuff was so hard you could kill someone..." Thales raised an eyebrow:

"Also, this is the first time I've ever tasted a flavorful liquid... well, maybe excluding the stench. Do you know what smelly water feels like...?"

The little rascal chuckled.

"The clothes I was wearing were too slippery and too soft, making me feel like I was naked, so I added three more buckles to my belt. Although it hurt when I walked, it felt safer and more secure. Oh, and the first night, I didn't even know how to put on pants..." Thales shook his head and sighed as he recalled the absurd history.

The little rascal listened intently, gradually forgetting the tear stains on his face.

“I had never walked on such a flat, smooth black stone floor before. Before, it was either a dirt road, a dirt road, or a brick road... When I saw that the study room actually had a wooden floor…”

“Every night, lying on such a soft bed is torture. I feel like I'm suffocating under the covers, so I can only go to the floor, hide in a corner, and sleep with my clothes on…”

Thales shook his head.

The little rascal looked at him sympathetically, blinked, and nodded.

"But I never slept soundly; I actually slept better when I was on a mission to Exeter and camping in the wild..."

“Gilbert was very strict, and the course was very intense. He wanted me to write two hundred words a day... On the twentieth day, he even went so far as to force me to compose a poem in Old Imperial English…”

"The first time I rode in a horse-drawn carriage, I had to hold onto the door handles on both sides to avoid falling off..."

As he spoke, Thales became engrossed in the conversation, while the little rascal listened attentively, occasionally chiming in with a comment.

When he recounted the story of being thrown from the same pony fifty-eight times, Thales suddenly realized:

The little rascal was already leaning against the bedside, his head tilted to his right shoulder, fast asleep.

Her glasses were askew, and her head was resting on the soft edge of the bed.

Her small hands were pressed against her chest by her bent knees, and her whole body rose and fell heavily with her breath.

The little girl's platinum long hair fell smoothly down, with a few strands getting into her mouth, causing her to smack her lips from time to time even in her sleep.

Thales looked at her sleeping soundly, smiled, and slowly shook his head.

He carefully parted her long hair and pulled a few strands out of the little rascal's mouth.

Then he forcefully pulled down a corner of the blanket and covered the little rascal with it.

Thales stood up and sighed softly.

Hopefully, she can get another good night's sleep.

Before truly becoming a Walton.

Thinking of this, Thales turned away dejectedly.

He went to the desk, struggled to climb onto the chair, and picked up Gilbert's scroll of letters from the table.

Thales looked at the familiar handwriting on the letter, shook his head nostalgically, and then unfolded the letter.

It was a text message.

Your Highness:

Hopefully you have arrived safely in Dragon City.

We learned of what happened to you on your journey—Ms. Ginny was very worried about your safety and repeatedly asked me to inquire about your health.

Please allow me to express my concern and worries about you.

His Majesty has informed the lords along the route through the North and the Central Territory, and has also notified the two commanders of Dragonstalker Fortress that they will dispatch patrols and troops to ensure the safety of the Birch Forest route upon your return.

Information and affairs concerning the Blood Mage have been handed over to the Kingdom's Secret Service. Lord Morat personally assured me that they would handle it well.

His Majesty, on behalf of the Kingdom, recently sent a letter across the sea to the Kingdom of Night, but has not yet received a reply from the Queen of Night.

In addition, for reasons we all know, after a “deep talk” with His Majesty, Duke Jann Kevindale recently generously donated a high-yield crystal mine to the Royal Family, increased the share of perpetual oil supplied to the Central Territory, and agreed to transfer jurisdiction over the three northern baronies of the South Coast Territory to the Royal Family—His Majesty often tells me that this is all thanks to Your Highness (at this point, Thales curled his lip).

His Majesty has already commended Baron Arakka Mu and Lady Sonia Sathere, and has again dispatched additional troops to Dragonslayer Fortress, urging the nobles of the North to instruct the two commanders to exert the pressure due on Black Sand Territory—as a show of support for you and a protest against the Duke of Lombard's disrespectful actions.

Allow me to reiterate my concern for your unfortunate encounter at the fortress, and my relief and joy upon learning that you are safe and sound.

Nevertheless, I am well aware of the difficulties Your Highness has faced since entering Exter; the real tests and challenges are yet to come.

In this regard, I must, in my capacity as former Foreign Secretary, remind you of three crucial points:
First, Exter's political system is completely different from ours. In addition to being a king, King Nunn is also a duke of Dragonsreach and the master of the Walton family. Exter's interests are completely different from Walton's interests—please pay special attention to this point.

Secondly, while the Grand Dukes of Exeter possess considerable strength and a robust military, the relationships between them are quite complex, intertwined with both current interests and past history, and even more divided than those between the Star Kingdoms. I believe this is something you can leverage. For instance, the three Grand Dukes of the South have drastically different interests regarding Star Kingdom and Dragonsky City, and their attitudes and interests differ as well. You might consider humbly seeking advice from Lord Putila Neman in this regard.

Third, no matter what difficulties you face, please always firmly believe that you are the sole heir to the Star Throne, a descendant of Tormund and even the Imperial Family. Based on this, please do not worry about your safety. At the same time, please believe that King Nunn's interests are currently similar to ours, and in terms of both prestige and power, no one in the North can match him. Therefore, our best strategy is to try our best to win him over and utilize his influence, and to redirect his hatred towards Lumba. To quell the war, I suggest transforming the conflict between the Stars and the Dragons into a conflict between the King and the Grand Dukes within Exter.

These are some of my observations, offered for your reference, to help you discuss countermeasures with Putila. However, I know that true politics and diplomacy always oscillate between plans and contingencies. Therefore, grasping the essence of things and adapting to changing circumstances is the truly wise approach—just like your performance in the Hall of Stars. And I have great confidence in you.

One more thing, the Sunset Bar in the Black Street of the Lower City that you asked me to send people to search for has recently changed owners. The female bartender and those children you mentioned seem to have disappeared without a trace. I suspect they have fled far away to avoid trouble.

The specific details may only be known with the help of the Secret Service – after all, it is not appropriate for us to openly search the lower city in the name of the royal family, as this would allow many people with ulterior motives to guess your past, which would be detrimental to them.

But please don't worry, our people have received intelligence that a girl who looks very similar to the female bartender you described recently visited the XC District Police Station. We believe we will find their trail soon.

During your time in Exte, do not neglect your studies; when you return, I will test your knowledge of sonnets.

In addition, Ms. Ginny said that you must continue to practice your sword skills and not slack off, as she will conduct real sword training with you after your return (Tails sighed helplessly).

As a royal bodyguard, Miss Ada's loyalty and competence are beyond question, but she is not perfect and there are times when she is not thoughtful enough (Thales rolled his eyes at this point and admired Gilbert's tactful tone). Hopefully, with other attendants filling in the gaps, you can take good care of yourself.

Please allow me to express my care and longing for you once again, and I wish you all the best in the future.

His Majesty is very concerned about your safety and the smoothness of your journey. He misses you very much during your absence (Thales is sure that this sentence was added by Gilbert later).

——————————Your loyal friend and subordinate, Gilbert Cassel

——————————December 27, 672 of the Ending Calendar, at Yongxing City
P.S.: Yodl seems to have asked me to give you my regards with this letter—I hope I haven't misunderstood him.

Thales put down the letter, and the image of Gilbert holding a cane, wearing a top hat and bowing appeared in his mind's eye, as well as his vivid, respectful and proper way of instructing him. He couldn't help but grin.

He reread Gilbert's three suggestions for Exter in the letter and shook his head slightly: Gilbert probably didn't know that they had completed their mission on their very first day in Dragon City.

Meanwhile, Thales couldn't help but worry about the disappearance of the people from Sunset Bar—Yara, Sinty, Ryan, and Coria. But since Gilbert had mentioned that Yara had been there, and Yara was safe, the beggars should be alright too.

Besides, the Brotherhood has been through such a major event as the Battle of Red Street, they shouldn't have the energy to care about a few beggars.

He exhaled, recalling his past as a beggar and the people in the Sixth House, and was filled with emotion.

Fate is unpredictable, isn't it?

Just like the little rascal sleeping soundly behind him.

Thinking of this, Thales couldn't help but stretch and let out a satisfied groan—the trip to Exter, aside from those strange things, had actually gone quite smoothly.

Behind me came the little rascal's murmurs and mutterings in his sleep.

The rest of my days in Exster should be much easier.

Thinking this, Thales happily rolled up the letter.

At that moment, Thales was taken aback.

He found a second letter where the original letter had been—he hadn't noticed it earlier, probably because his attention was drawn to Gilbert's letter.

No, Thales picked up the thin, dark blue double-layered cardboard and frowned: This is not a letter.

It was an invitation.

strangeness.

Thales looked at the blue invitation with a puzzled expression and scratched his head.

The invitation's cover bore only the words "To My Dear Friend," written in beautiful classical cursive script—which reminded him of the treaty between Tormund and Nekaju in Nekaju's library, also written in equally beautiful cursive script.

Thales frowned slightly, looking at the strange invitation with some hesitation.

but.

If we've overcome even a challenge like tonight, what else is there to be afraid of?

Thales shook his head with a self-deprecating smile and opened the invitation without hesitation.

The first thing you see is a beautiful, ornate, general-style script.

Dear Thales:
We haven't seen each other for so long, and I miss you terribly.

Especially after the arduous search for your whereabouts and the news that you have regained your identity, I am not only missing you, but also sincerely happy for you. I hope that during your time as a prince, you can learn enough, good enough, broad enough, and profound enough knowledge.

After all, both Radiant Star and Carlosser are great names.

Our last meeting was so rushed and brief that I didn't have a chance to tell you so many things—no words can express my regret about it.

This also reminds me of our mutual, agile, masked friend. I'm glad he didn't come to the North with you, which is why I was able to send you this invitation; of course, I miss him very much.

Having written this far, I am truly eager to meet you, and I would like to take the liberty of extending an invitation for our next meeting.

The location is up to you.

As for the time, how about setting it for fifteen minutes after you open the invitation?

Have a good day.

Looking forward to our upcoming meeting.

P.S.: Based on your complaints about Red Town Street last time, I've prepared special invitations this time. I used a star-blue cover design that matches your family's style, and I hope it suits your taste.

——————A long-lost friend whom I met on Red Town Street
——————You are loyal and sincere,

——————Aishida Sakorn

[Written just now]

This chapter touches on the earlier parts of Volume 1. Readers who have forgotten the content may refer to Chapters 14 and 15 of Volume 1.

That brat Thales, so young and already doing bad things, going to a hotel with girls at such a young age...

We have to teach him a lesson, don't you think?

P.S. I've seen everyone on PTT who's writing tweets and streaming live. Thanks for the encouragement! Wujian will keep up the good work!

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(End of this chapter)