Chapter 3

When I entered the estate, one of our senior butlers greeted me.

"Please handle any minor disputes," I told him.

He bowed.

"As you wish, my lord."

I thanked him and headed to my room.

Tomorrow was another academy day.

The next morning, I arrived at KST Academy.

As I entered, my eyes naturally drifted toward the large board displaying the academy structure.

I remembered my first day here.

My father had personally explained the system to us.

Somehow, I had made it to the third year.

The first year had belonged to House Turney.

Basic Magic.

General Sorcery.

Mana Control.

The year where most students got stuck.

The second year focused on specialization.

Assassination.

Healing.

Warfare.

Diplomacy.

Magecraft.

I had survived Professor Dron's classes and cleared the requirements needed to advance.

Now came the third year.

State Affairs.

House Solaris would be taking over our education.

Politics.

Bureaucracy.

Administration.

Taxation.

Governance.

I still wasn't entirely sure why an assassin needed to understand tax collection.

Then again, House Solaris had built half the institutions in the kingdom.

There was probably a reason for it.

I wondered how many students would be joining the third year.

When my batch entered the academy, there had been far more students.

Now only thirty remained.

Two had already reached the fourth year.

Twelve were still trapped in the first year.

The rest were scattered between the second and third years.

The academy was never in a hurry to graduate anyone.

My eyes moved to the next section.

Fourth Year.

Field Application.

No classrooms.

No lectures.

Only missions.

A healer might spend years attached to an army.

A diplomat could be sent to negotiate a treaty.

A warrior could be assigned to clear a monster-infested region.

An assassin could be sent after a heavily protected target.

Then came the final year.

Legacy Creation.

An assassin had to create a team.

A healer had to establish a clinic.

A warrior had to raise a troop.

A diplomat had to create an alliance or administrative system.

Everything would be judged by a board.

I stared at the structure for a few moments.

Third year.

Three more years remained.

I went inside the classroom and took my seat.

A few minutes later, our professor entered.

Professor Ron Solaris.

Like every member of House Solaris, he carried himself with a calm dignity that was difficult to describe.

He greeted us politely.

With respect.

With courtesy.

It was something we had never received from any of our previous instructors.

Professor Dron would torture us.

Professor Isaac would try to kill us.

House Solaris, however, taught differently.

There was something about them.

A quiet confidence.

The kind that didn't need to prove itself.

Once everyone was seated, Professor Ron began the lesson.

The first topic was the structure of our kingdom.

He explained how authority flowed through the state.

At the top stood House Globus.

The royal family.

The king possessed the authority to question, modify, or overturn any law imposed by a noble house, government office, or regional administration.

However, that power was rarely used recklessly.

The strength of the kingdom came from the balance maintained between the Crown, the Great Houses, and the bureaucracy established through the Solaris Decree.

For the next few days, each lesson focused on a different subject.

Our neighboring kingdoms.

Our allies.

Trade routes.

Military strengths.

Economic weaknesses.

Border disputes.

Professor Ron was extremely thorough.

Every lecture was supported by reports, historical examples, and records collected over generations.

Then one day, the topic shifted to House Whitlock.

The room immediately became more attentive.

Recent events had ensured everyone knew the name.

Professor Ron stood before the board and spoke.

"For over a thousand years, House Whitlock has supported the Crown."

He then began listing examples.

During famines, they opened their grain reserves.

During rebellions, they supplied soldiers.

During economic crises, they funded reconstruction efforts.

Then he reached the Eastern War against the Kingdom of Fera.

Even I had heard stories about that battle.

"The Crown Prince's army was surrounded," Professor Ron explained.

"The enemy had successfully pinned down the royal forces."

At that point, defeat had seemed inevitable.

Then Henry Whitlock acted.

Without waiting for orders, he redirected his cavalry toward the enemy advance.

The purpose was simple.

Buy time.

Allow the Crown Prince to escape.

Professor Ron paused before continuing.

"Henry Whitlock and twenty-five riders engaged the enemy Royal Commander and a force of nearly one thousand soldiers."

The classroom became silent.

Everyone knew what that meant.

It was a suicide charge.

"He held them for three hours."

Several students looked stunned.

Three hours.

Against impossible odds.

Professor Ron nodded.

"The Crown Prince survived."

No further explanation was needed.

The sacrifice had become one of the most famous acts of loyalty in the kingdom's history.

Looking back on the current crisis, I understood why the royal family was doing everything possible to help House Whitlock.

After that, the lesson shifted to another topic.

The different species living within our kingdom.

Professor Ron explained that things had not always been peaceful.

In the distant past, many intelligent races had been treated little better than animals simply because they were different.

Beastkin.

Forest-born races.

Several magical species.

Many had been denied rights entirely.

That changed with the Solaris Decree.

House Solaris pushed for reforms that recognized all intelligent citizens under the law.

The changes were controversial at the time.

Today, they were considered normal.

Many students sitting in the academy itself belonged to races that would once have been excluded from education altogether.

By the end of the week, we had learned more about the kingdom than I had in years of growing up within it.

The strengths of each region.

The weaknesses of each province.

The cultures.

The trade networks.

The military structures.

Looking at the Whitlock situation, I was beginning to understand why House Solaris taught the third year.

Apparently, running a kingdom was far more complicated than killing people.

And the lessons weren't limited to politics and administration.

Sometimes the hardest question wasn't how to kill someone.

It was whether they should be killed at all.

A corrupt but brilliant general standing on the eve of a war was a perfect example.

Removing him might be morally correct.

It might also cost thousands of soldiers their lives.

Likewise, sparing an honest but incompetent leader could be just as disastrous.

Good intentions rarely saved kingdoms.

Competence did.

Professor Ron constantly forced us to look beyond simple answers.

Every situation had consequences.

Every decision created new problems.

And every solution came with a cost.

Over time, we became much better at assessing situations.

We learned how to identify signs of rebellion.

How to recognize corruption.

How to report suspicious activity to the Solaris Board.

How to determine whether a noble house was violating kingdom laws or merely exploiting loopholes.

We also spent considerable time studying social structures and etiquette.

A surprising amount of diplomacy involved knowing who should speak first, who should remain silent, and which customs could accidentally start an argument.

Then came languages.

We learned three in total.

The first was Elven.

Most of the eastern kingdoms were Elven nations, and many historians believed the last war had escalated because of misunderstandings and poor communication between diplomats.

The second language belonged to the Water Folk.

Although many of them lived within eastern territories, their speech differed noticeably from both human and elven languages.

Fortunately, it was relatively easy to learn.

The third focused less on words and more on people.

Professor Ron called it the language of crowds.

What do you say to a hungry crowd?

What do you say to an angry crowd?

What do you say when people are frightened?

What do you say when they have already lost hope?

Those lessons surprised me the most.

Before joining House Solaris classes, I had always viewed kingdoms through the actions of nobles, soldiers, and powerful mages.

Professor Ron disagreed.

According to him, a kingdom's greatest strength was neither its army nor its noble houses.

It was its people.

The farmers who produced food.

The merchants who moved goods.

The craftsmen who built roads and cities.

The ordinary citizens who paid taxes and kept the kingdom functioning.

House Solaris believed that the common people were just as important as any of the Twenty-Five Great Houses.

And after a few months of their lectures, I was beginning to understand why.

The third year wasn't limited to academy lessons.

Whenever I returned to the estate, work was waiting for me.

As acting head in my father's absence, I had to review reports, sign decisions, settle disputes between minor nobles, and occasionally authorize assassin deployments when problems required a more direct solution.

Most issues were routine.

Land disputes.

Trade disagreements.

Tax complaints.

The kind of problems every territory dealt with.

Then there was the farmer.

For an entire week, he came to the estate every single day.

The servants would meet him at the gate and ask for his problem.

Every time he gave the same answer.

"I want to speak with the head of House Kasper."

Nothing more.

Nothing less.

After seven days, I finally noticed him myself.

The man looked exhausted.

His clothes were worn.

His hands were rough from years of labor.

I walked over.

"What is it?"

The farmer immediately bowed.

"I wish to speak with the head of House Kasper."

"I am currently acting as the head."

The farmer looked surprised for a moment before nodding.

Then he finally explained.

"There is a young girl in the city brothel."

I looked at him.

"So?"

The farmer hesitated.

"She is only eleven."

For a moment, I simply stared at him.

I didn't immediately understand why he had come to us.

Then the butler quietly stepped beside me.

"Young Master," he whispered, "your father dislikes children being used in such work."

I frowned.

"Is it illegal?"

"No."

That answer didn't surprise me.

The butler continued.

"If someone legally sold the child, the owner may use them as they see fit."

I felt my expression darken.

The butler remained calm.

"As long as the child receives food, shelter, medical care, and is not severely harmed, the law allows it."

"So officially we can't do anything?"

The butler nodded.

"Officially, no."

I thought for a few moments.

Then I asked,

"What would Father have done?"

The butler didn't even need to think.

"He would have bought her."

I blinked.

"What?"

"He would purchase the child."

The butler's expression remained completely neutral.

"Then place her in the servant quarters and arrange for her to be raised there."

Apparently this wasn't the first time.

"That's what he did with me."

I turned toward him.

For the first time since I had known the man, he looked slightly uncomfortable.

"You?"

The butler nodded.

"Many years ago."

I stared at him.

Suddenly a great many things started making sense.

The loyalty.

The dedication.

The way our servants would willingly throw themselves into danger for my father.

I had always assumed it was because House Kasper treated its staff well.

Now I realized there was more to it.

Much more.

"No wonder," I muttered.

The butler raised an eyebrow.

"No wonder our servants are so loyal."

For the first time all day, the old butler smiled.

A small smile.

But a genuine one.

"Yes, Young Master."

"I suppose that's one reason."

I instructed the butler to follow Father's usual practice.

The girl was purchased and brought to the estate a few days later.

She looked frightened.

Thin.

Dirty.

Far too young to have the expression she carried.

The moment she entered my office, she lowered her head.

I studied her for a few seconds.

"Do you know why I bought you?"

She shook her head.

"No, Young Master."

"I want to make a deal with you."

That made her look up.

A deal was probably the last thing she expected to hear.

I leaned back in my chair.

"If you clean the gardens every day and do your assigned work properly, I will set you free in five years."

Her eyes widened.

I continued.

"And when those five years are over, I will give you five gold coins."

For a moment she simply stared at me.

Then her face lit up.

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Really."

"Okay, Young Master."

The answer came immediately.

She didn't even try to negotiate.

Then she hesitated.

"Master..."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

"Can you do me one favor?"

I couldn't help feeling amused.

Most children would ask for food.

Or toys.

Or better clothes.

"What favor?"

"Please kill my mother."

The room became silent.

Even the servants looked uncomfortable.

I simply waited.

"She is raising another child so she can sell her too."

Her voice remained calm.

Almost emotionless.

"Many of the girls in that brothel are from my family."

I sat quietly for several moments.

Then I asked,

"The other child. How old?"

"Five."

"So she won't be sold for another five years?"

The girl nodded.

I thought for a moment.

Then I shook my head.

"No."

Her expression didn't change.

Perhaps she expected the answer.

I continued.

"Work here for five years."

She listened carefully.

"When those five years are over, if you still want revenge, then go kill her yourself."

For the first time, genuine surprise appeared on her face.

"Or hire someone."

I thought for a moment.

"Two silver coins should be enough for a commoner."

The girl slowly nodded.

As if she was memorizing the plan.

Then she bowed.

"Thank you, Young Master."

Without another word, she followed the servants toward the gardens.

I watched her leave.

The butler stepped forward.

"I'll keep an eye on her."

I nodded.

"Please do."

He followed after her.

Once they were gone, I remained seated.

The girl's reaction had impressed me.

No crying.

No begging.

No hesitation.

Just a clear objective.

Then another thought crossed my mind.

If Father hated children being used in brothels so much...

Why didn't he simply outlaw it?

The answer seemed obvious.

He had enough influence.

The king trusted him.

If House Kasper supported such a law, very few nobles would openly oppose it.

So why hadn't he done it?

I made a mental note to ask him when he returned.

Knowing Father, there was probably a reason.

And knowing kingdoms politics, it was probably far more complicated than it appeared.