Kingdom Bloodline

Chapter 544 The Watchful Law
The music was melodious, and the candlelight was romantic.

The banquet moved into its next phase, where many men and women began to dance hand in hand on the dance floor in the center of the hall.

Except for Thales.

"No, madam, your boldness and frankness have amazed me and brightened up this banquet."

Seated before a vibrant and charming young noblewoman, Thales uttered dry, platitudes (which could probably only fool Ada):
"However, my position is sensitive, and this matter is of great importance, so I cannot be careless."

“Especially the first dance after returning home, it’s unfair no matter who you dance with, and everyone else will feel resentful.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thales noticed that Marius had finished speaking with several of his men and was walking toward him.

The watchman's eyes held both urgency and vigilance, and Thales understood the meaning behind it:

Do it quickly.

"Therefore, for the stability and balance of the kingdom, for the prosperity and peace of the stars."

Thales roused himself, looked kindly into the girl's bright eyes, gently took her hand in his, and suppressed his self-loathing:
"I can only bear the immense grief and give up the beautiful experience of dancing with you."

"This breaks my heart."

The girl in front of me bit her lower lip, her eyes filled with sorrow and hurt.

But with a slight reproach, she lifted her skirt, bent her knees, glanced sadly at Thales, and then turned and left.

It is neither clumsy nor messy, yet graceful and charming.

It makes people look sideways.

Thales breathed a sigh of relief, feeling utterly exhausted.

This is the ninth lady tonight to invite him to dance, and the forty-fourth (or fifty-fourth? I can't remember) guest to visit him.

“So you’ve just gotten rid of Miss Inossa,” Marius’s voice came from behind him:
"Well done."

“So that’s her name, Inossa?” Thales sighed. “Her expression makes me feel guilty.”

Marius categorically denied it:
"It's not necessary."

"Miss Inosa is not only bold and straightforward, but she also knows how to use her charm to win over her prizes, making many young talents willing to go through fire and water for her," the Watcher said calmly as he sat down at the side table.
"Believe me, you don't want to duel someone at the very first banquet."

"Especially when there are assassins around."

Thales was in a real bind.

Oh yes.

According to Marius, at this very moment, there was a damned assassin lurking in the banquet, whose whereabouts were unknown.

I reckon this is going to be big news.

The king—his father—and countless nobles were all present, watching with predatory eyes.

After exchanging pleasantries and seeing off the next guest, the prince finally dropped his perfect smile, put down the wine glass that had been touched to his lips countless times, and stretched his back muscles.

Are you sure, assassin?

"Just because of... a single look?"

Marius's voice remained steady:

"I'd rather believe it."

Thales glanced at him before turning back.

"Ok."

"So, some guy of considerable status, qualified to attend a royal banquet, went to great lengths to assassinate me, in full view of everyone and under heavy guard, risking his life and disregarding his reputation?"

Marius, without changing his expression, raised his glass and drank across the table from a friend at the next table:
"Or your father."

“Or my father.” Thales readily agreed, but remained resentful and indignant.

"But why? I just returned to Xingchen. What grudge could I possibly have? Did I steal his wife or kill his father?"

Marius surveyed the guests warily, yet surprisingly, he cracked a dry joke:
"Or both?"

Thales glared at him unhappily.

"In any case, don't let your guard down; we haven't found him yet," Marius said softly, continuing to arrange manpower.

Thales exhaled—ahead, the tenth lady stepped forward tremblingly and curtsied to him.

But as a prince, he had to remain calm, endure the stares and scrutiny of countless people, consider the impact, and maintain his composure.

He had to brace himself and deal with guests who greeted him with various motives.

Including the girl in front of him who had come to invite him to dance: she was probably only eleven or twelve years old, and the nervous expression on her face always reminded Thales of the little rascal he was when he was a child.

Oh, and Selma too.

The girl was caught in the crossfire of war in the north.

He was also thinking about how he could help her, who was thousands of miles away, at this banquet.

Thinking of the Grand Duchess, Thales felt a pang of unease again.

And all he could do was...

Laugh, Thales, on this battlefield, a smile is the best armor.

“When you grow a little older, lovely lady, I will surely be captivated by you and dance with you—but for now, we must take responsibility for your father and brothers.”

Thales forced a smile and saw off the tearful, aggrieved "Miss Number Ten".

Before he could rest for even a few seconds, the fifty-sixth guest, Levi Trudida from the Reconstruction Tower in the North, squeezed in with a grin and a fawning expression.

"Um, Polaris?"

"We, we agreed... that you and I..."

Oh.

Thales covered his eyes and rolled his eyes in his palm.

What's that saying again? "Say 'little rascal,' and the little rascal will appear?"
“I know, I know,” the prince said, remembering his promise to Levi. He reluctantly put his hand down, suppressed his exhaustion, and put his “armor” back on. “But do me a favor, little pot lid.”

Small pot lid?
Levi paused for a moment, then subconsciously touched his bowl cut hair.

“Sit down and just smile,” Thales said, looking exasperated. “Take whatever you want to eat, including what’s on my plate. There’s only one…”

"Do not talk."

Levy paused for a moment again:
"But we..."

But Thales's gaze forced him to back down.

The guest from the Reconstruction Tower understood immediately. He sat down, ate and grinned foolishly at Thales, while secretly glancing at a certain bureaucrat in the audience.

The prince smiled gently at him in return.

To outsiders, it was like meeting a kindred spirit, with nothing to hide.

They sat quietly facing each other for five minutes.

Unfortunately, no assassins appeared.

Luckily, no one asked him to dance.

"Alright, it's almost time. They must think we're about to start getting gay."

Thales was listless.

He ignored Levi's strange look and enjoyed his rare break: "By the way, Levi."

Levy put down his wine glass and listened attentively to his advice.

“The Duke of Southrest of the Clifflands, he told me,” Thales said, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead.

“He discovered your scheme of buying food from the stars and smuggling it out of his territory.”

Levy's expression changed drastically.

Thales said with great interest:
“It looks like ‘One-Eyed’ Kusd is very unhappy.”

"You mean smuggling?"

To his surprise, the little pot lid's expression changed swiftly, and he said sternly:
"What? There are still such lawless individuals in our territory? Your Highness, rest assured, I will certainly crack down on them upon my return..."

"take it easy."

Thales waved his hand dismissively, looking weary, and lied without a care in the world:
“I convinced him that the one-eyed man would turn a blind eye to you to prevent the Rumba from becoming too powerful.”

"You can continue transporting supplies."

Levy's eyes widened in disbelief.

He forced a smile and found the right words:
"Ah, Polaris, you really are, you really are that..."

Rain from heaven? Thales found the right words for him.

“But you need to think about it more,” Ke Thales wanted to end this quickly, waving his hand to interrupt him:
“If this path is discovered by the Black Sand Territory in the future, or even if your coming to me for help is exposed—then King Chaman will only think that you have long been colluding with the Stars and harboring treacherous intentions.”

"And you know how much he hates me."

The little pot lid's eyes darted around.

"You must hurry up and find internal support to fight against the patricide."

Thales sighed:

Ultimately, Exter's problems can only be solved internally.

Internal aid, internal support.

Thales felt he had made himself clear enough.

There was a moment of silence between them.

"Your Highness's words are invaluable." Levi's expression turned serious.
“I will keep it in mind.”

Thales shook his head.

“Of course, One-Eyed Dragon isn’t a good guy either,” the boy raised his glass and clinked it with Levi’s. “If he breaks his promise behind my back, cuts off your supply lines, or tries to blackmail me with it…”

Thales's gaze turned cold:
"Remember to let me know."

Levy's expression was grave; he simply nodded.

"Finally, what about your previous promises..." Thales said casually.

Levy stated unequivocally:

"I will certainly do it for Your Highness."

And so, Polaris saw off the troubled little pot lid.

Thales let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly exhausted and disillusioned.

It's as if even the sins of the River of Hell have dried up.

But the rest benefit Levy provided only lasted for five minutes.

Soon, Thales had to put on his "armor" again and be fully armed to greet "Miss Eleven".

After seeing her off, he tried to concentrate and looked around.

There's also an assassin to worry about.

During this time, his (or Marius's) Star Lake Guard had already begun operations, lightly armed and quietly.

The former guard officer Kommuto, who had sparred with Thales, the burly Bastia with a face full of scars, the tall Franzuc, who was as tall as a flagpole, and the seemingly dull-looking Ferry—these guards quietly gathered, some hiding in the shadows of the hallway, some disguised as servants serving wine, and some pretending to take turns, standing guard not far from Thales, vigilantly scanning anyone who approached the prince.

In the Vanguard Wing, Zonevid, who was accustomed to using a left-handed sword, Vlaten, who was helping Thales practice by holding up his shield, the young and impetuous Neshi, the unassuming Oscar Elson, Supa, who had foreign blood, and Morgan, who had served in the military and fought in battles, were scattered throughout the hall, each occupying a different place, guarding the high platform, the servants' passage, and the entrances and exits, and also keeping an eye on the people coming and going.

As for Piloga and the rest of the logistics wing, at the prince's insistence, they went to search the fireplace and other hiding places in the Mindis Hall ("Once upon a time there was a grand duke who didn't pay attention to the fireplace, and then he became king." — The extremely serious Prince Thales).

Marius's direct messengers, Toledo and Donsing, moved back and forth between them inconspicuously, as if on routine patrol, but in reality, they were relaying orders and communicating information.

They were also constantly watching the prince.

Looking at all this, Thales felt even more pressure.

The King, the Banquet, the Guests, the Assassins, the Stars, Exter, Selma, the Starlake Guard, and that damned Mindis Hall and the title of Duke…

He felt as if he were chained by countless chains.

The other end of the chain was firmly fixed to every pillar in the hall, rendering him immobile and on the verge of death.

Thales' smile had long since stiffened, like worn-out armor.

As the prince gazed at the shackled and lonely Duke Val from afar, a feeling of envy welled up from the bottom of his heart.

Perhaps the Duke of the North is luckier.

At least, after tonight, he won't have to endure this anymore.

Just then, Doyle returned from gathering information among the guests.

"Sir, Your Highness."

Doyle stood tall and proud, full of energy and radiant with health.

The contrast between Thales, who was exhausted from working together, and Marius, who was in a state of utter disarray, was striking.

Thales and Marius both squinted and leaned forward.

The two stared at a suspicious red mark—a lip print—that was faintly visible beneath Doyle's collar.
DD noticed their gazes and calmly adjusted his collar.
"You know, intelligence work... some senior informants charge very high prices..."

Marius coughed:
"Doyle?"

“I apologize, sir,” Doyle said solemnly, getting back to the main point:

"To be honest, almost all unmarried women aged nine to thirty-nine, including their male relatives, are openly or secretly sizing up Your Highness, glancing up every ten seconds and enthusiastically discussing your status, appearance, figure, clothing, love life, achievements, character, and personality, with the importance decreasing in that order..."

"Many people have asked me about your preferences and habits, betting on who can win your heart! Hehe, how could they know that our Prince likes..."

Thales frowned:
"DD?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness," Doyle quickly changed the subject, sensing the awkward situation.

"Forgive my bluntness, but the enthusiasm those people showed in gathering information about His Highness, and the way they looked at him, regardless of gender, was as if they wanted to devour him alive. They were more like assassins than assassins themselves."

Doyle helplessly shrugged.

Thales paused, looking toward the center of the banquet.

But wherever his gaze fell, every guest was immersed in their own little world, chatting or exchanging toasts.

Refined and civilized, polite and proper.

The young women were all radiant and beautiful. Some were chatting and laughing with their friends, some were invited to sing and dance, and some stayed quietly and elegantly beside their elders. But no one deliberately stared at the prince's table.

Even when ladies made eye contact with Thales, they mostly bowed their heads politely, nodded shyly, smiled, or returned the greeting appropriately.

She appears natural and poised, with noble and dignified character and virtuous nature.

He was not at all constrained or bothered by his status as a prince.

Just like that lady named Renoir or Inussa from earlier.

It inspires respect.

Thales scanned the area:
"Why don't I feel that way?"

Doyle gave a mysterious smile:
“That’s obviously because you lack experience, while they are skilled and experienced, and are used to gathering intelligence before launching a general offensive…” Marius interrupted at this point:
"enough."

"Golver is back."

The three of them turned their heads in unison: Golov, who had gone to contact his superiors, appeared in the shadows of the corridor.

Behind him followed another royal guard with a calm demeanor and outstanding presence, whom Thales did not recognize.

Doyle's expression immediately changed.

"Oh no."

Thales looked at the guard:

"Who is that?"

Doyle stood up, leaned close to Thales' ear, and whispered through gritted teeth:
“Those are bad people, Your Highness, bad people in the guards, the real villains of the Restoration Palace…”

Thales was stunned.

“My name is Vogel Taren,” the man said, raising his wine glass as he approached Thales’ table and bowed gracefully, more like a guest than a guard: “Your Highness Thales.”

"Second Commander of the Royal Guard".

"Also serving as Chief Flag Officer."

Wishing you good health and happiness.

Vogel Taren straightened up and glanced at Golov and Doyle.

The latter two reluctantly bowed and stepped back.

"Secondary Commander..."

Thales, who had already maxed out his "armor," smiled and raised his glass, just like a perfectly normal social gesture.

"So, you're the deputy captain of the Royal Guard? Captain Adrian's second-in-command?"

"And your surname... Taren from Glacier City?"

The boy racked his brains, trying to quickly switch between the guest's title and surname.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Vogel explained, clearing up his confusion.

“My uncle is none other than the Earl of Ice River City.”

Thales's gaze swept over the pentagram pattern on his cuff.

Taren of Glacier City.

The Taren family, a distant relative of the Starry Sky royal family, one of the thirteen noble families, and a powerful ally within the Central Territory, uses a pentagram as its emblem.

Coincidentally, their ancestor was one of the Dukes of Starlake in history.

only……

Thales muttered about the other person's other title.

Chief Flag Officer?
He suddenly remembered Samir, the former royal guard who had joined the Blade of Calamity.

"May you enjoy this night."

Vogel didn't say much. He bowed and went to the side table, sitting next to Marius, who also clinked glasses with him.

It looked like an old friend having a drink in a corner.

“Lord Taren, good night,” Marius said, his expression unchanged, his tone businesslike.

"I believe you brought the captain's orders?"

“Oh, Tormund,” Vogel addressed Marius by his name gently, but Thales noticed his smile was polite, as if layered on his face: “Regarding what you reported…”

We look forward to your explanation.

“I believe Golov has explained it very clearly.”

The Watcher said calmly, "For security reasons, we now..."

"clear?"

Vogel gently swirled his wine glass, amicably interrupting Marius:

Are you sure that was an assassin?

Marius's pupils contracted.

Thales frowned as well.

A few seconds later, Marius slowly said:

"Probably."

Vogel put down his glass, his tone slowly tightening: "Perhaps?"

“Dear Tormund, do you really know what you’re saying?”

Golov and Doyle realized the atmosphere was becoming tense and looked at each other.

"This is the first formal royal banquet in more than a decade since the war. It has been in preparation for a long time, and the guests are very important."

The deputy captain's words began to turn serious:
"What is happening here now will spread throughout the kingdom tomorrow, with far-reaching consequences."

He turned and stared at Marius as if he were staring at a criminal who had broken the law:
"Whether it was the banquet being interrupted and the dignitaries being hastily arranged to leave, or the Starry Sky royal family being cowardly and anxious, searching for the assassin."

Vogel squinted:
"Just because...someone glanced at you?"

"Sounds like a scene from a country pub, Tormund."

The contempt in his tone was clearly audible.

Thales couldn't help but look at Marius.

“Precisely because this banquet is so important,” the captain of the Star Lake Duke’s personal guard said calmly, without showing any anger.

"So if the assassination is true, the trouble will only get worse."

Vogel snorted coldly.

He stared intently at Marius's profile, but the latter simply looked straight ahead with a suspicious gaze that seemed to point at him not like a blade.

A few seconds later, Vogel exhaled.

"We have already taken action."

Vogel turned back to his glass: "They will keep a close eye on everyone who tries to approach. His Majesty, His Highness, and other dignitaries of high status will be safe..."

“But a strong shield can never be as effective as a sharp spear,” Marius said, not even glancing at him, still keeping an eye on the situation in the hall.
"The best approach is to prevent it from happening in the first place. Perhaps we can temporarily evacuate some parts..."

But Vogel's previously gentle tone suddenly hardened and froze, his words cutting straight into the other person's, even changing how he addressed them:
“For the sake of the setting sun, Marius.”

"Please don't lecture me."

He spoke slowly, but very earnestly.

A sudden silence fell between the two.

At that moment, both Doylegorofer and Thales felt that tension.

As the music faded, the dance party came to an end.

The bard returns to the stage, singing the tragic epic of the Blade King's expedition to Dragon's Kiss, only to die far from home on the eve of his triumph.

Thales resisted the urge to interrupt, trying not to look at the two people behind him, and forcefully cut the next plate of lettuce while flashing a smile as he saw off the next guest who came to greet him.

After a long while, Marius's voice came again, still calm:

"I dare not, sir."

Vogel was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, he was back to normal.

“We cannot simply drive everyone away to avoid accidents. This is the Mindis Hall, and its opening signifies the return of the heir to the kingdom and the restoration of prosperity and stability.”

Thales sighed inwardly.

Return to prosperity and stability...

Vogel cautiously glanced around to make sure he hadn't attracted too much attention.

"Stay vigilant, the banquet will proceed as scheduled."

He stood up to leave.

"But this is also the Duke of Starlake's Mindis Hall."

Marius's words came at just the right time.

“If anything happens, His Highness Thales will be the first to bear the blame and will be held responsible.”

Marius slowly turned his head and looked directly at Vogel:
"My people are the ones who take responsibility."

He spoke very slowly.

Vogel stopped moving.

The deputy captain of the guard loosened his arms from the table and sat down again.

"your people?"

This time, Vogel snorted coldly, his tone no longer polite.

“Marius, I think you and your young master squad need to figure out your place.”

These words made both Golov and Doyle turn pale.

Thales frowned as well.

Young Masters Squad...

Marius listened expressionlessly, while Vogel's gaze left no room for doubt:

“Even if you change your location, you are still the Royal Guard.”

"And I am your superior."

"Like the Mindis Hall, it belongs to the Palace of Renewal."

These words made Thales shudder.

Mindis Hall is subordinate to the Palace of Rejuvenation...

Vogel's words chilled to the bone:
"Never, never forget this."

"The Watchman".

Marius did not respond.

Just as Thales did not.

Time seemed to stand still for a few seconds.

Behind them, Golov and Doyle seemed frozen in place.

Only Marius took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and then opened them again: "Of course, sir."

"I dare not or forget."

He said respectfully.

Vogel nodded slightly, looking satisfied.

Until Marius calmly and seemingly without any emotional fluctuation, uttered his next sentence:

"But if I remember correctly, in a state of emergency..."

"The Guardian's Legacy Watcher, is he on par with the Deputy Guard Captain?"

"Is that so, sir?"

This time, it was Vogel's turn to change his expression.

For a fleeting second, Thales thought the temperature had plummeted and the air had stopped moving.

A few seconds later, the deputy captain of the guard stared coldly at Marius, his tone playful, barely audible:
"That's right. According to the top-secret Watchman Law in the Guardian Covenant, in certain 'emergency situations,' the Watchman can and should make independent decisions."

“And I have no right to interfere.”

Thales shuddered.

The top-secret "Guardian Laws".

In a state of emergency.

Watchmen can and should...

Independent decision-making?

Thales felt a chill run down his spine upon hearing this.

Marius nodded in realization.

Vogel lowered his voice, his words chilling:

"But you know, the last time the Royal Guard invoked the ordinance during a state of emergency, activating this secret law that grants the Watchmen immense power independent of the command wing..."

When did this happen?

At that moment, Thales' mind went blank, and he suddenly remembered Sackel, whose whereabouts were unknown.

That knight of punishment.

[The person who should truly bear the guilt of treason, yet despicably concealed the truth for eighteen years… that shameful, pathetic, hypocritical, disgusting, self-righteous, sanctimonious, two-faced fellow… that is me.]

Thales was stunned.

Vogel's pupils focused.

He raised his glass, brought it close to Marius's ear, and whispered:

"And you've really thought it through..."

"Are you going to forcibly declare a state of emergency right here, in front of me?"

"Activate the Watchful Laws?"

Marius and he faced off in silence.

Golov and Doyle didn't hear Vogel's words clearly, but that didn't prevent them from judging the tense relationship between their superior and the deputy captain of the guard.

Neither of them dared to utter a sound.

After an unknown amount of time, Marius finally smiled:

"certainly……"

In an instant, Vogel's eyes grew even colder.

Golov and Doyle were ashen-faced.

A few seconds later, the Watcher gently lowered his head, his smile returning as before:

"……Do not."

There's one more chapter, still revising. I'm catching up on sleep; I'll update it after I wake up this afternoon.

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(End of this chapter)