The hall did not recover immediately.
Even after the King's presence receded, the air remained heavy, as if what had just occurred refused to fade so easily. One by one, the princes and princesses began to leave, their movements controlled, their expressions composed—but beneath that composure, something had shifted.
No one spoke.
But many thought.
And those thoughts lingered on one person.
The Fifth Prince.
Samuel remained where he stood as the hall slowly emptied, his golden eyes calm, yet distant. He did not follow the others. He did not react to their departure.
Instead, his thoughts moved elsewhere.
To something far more important.
The moment the King's aura had descended upon him, Samuel had understood something clearly.
Not assumed.
Not guessed.
Confirmed.
He was weak.
Not in title.
Not in reputation.
But in truth.
In his previous life, power had been absolute. It had bent to his will, shaped by his understanding, refined through time. Strength had never been something he questioned.
But now—
Even standing in the presence of another had strained this body.
The difference was undeniable.
His fingers tightened slightly at his side, not in frustration, but acknowledgment.
I have yet to understand the power of this world…
His gaze lowered slightly, his thoughts sharpening.
If I remain as I am… I will never reach anything.
There was no emotion in the realization.
Only direction.
I must gather information.
—
"Your Highness."
The voice came from behind.
Edward had remained, as expected.
Samuel did not turn immediately.
"Where," he asked calmly, "can I learn about this world?"
Edward paused slightly at the question.
"…information regarding the kingdom, its structure, and its systems is primarily stored within the royal library," he answered after a moment.
Samuel turned his head slightly.
"The royal library."
Edward nodded.
"It contains records of history, knowledge of combat systems, and documentation of various disciplines within the kingdom."
A brief pause followed.
Then—
"But it is not a place one may enter freely."
Samuel's gaze sharpened slightly.
"Explain."
Edward hesitated, though only briefly.
"Access to the royal library requires permission," he said. "Specifically… permission from His Majesty."
Silence followed.
Samuel turned fully this time.
"The King."
"Yes."
There was no uncertainty in Edward's voice.
Without permission, the library remained closed.
Even to royalty.
—
Samuel said nothing more.
He simply began walking.
Edward blinked slightly before following behind.
"…Your Highness?"
But Samuel did not slow down.
His direction was clear.
—
The grand hall had emptied.
Only a few guards remained, stationed at a distance, unmoving.
At the highest point—
King of Masca Kingdom still stood.
He had not yet left.
Samuel approached.
Each step measured.
Each movement controlled.
There was no hesitation.
Edward followed behind, his expression tightening slightly. This was no longer a gathering.
This was direct approach.
Samuel stopped at a respectful distance.
Then spoke.
"I request permission."
The King did not turn immediately.
"For what?"
His voice was calm.
Unchanged.
"To access the royal library."
Silence settled between them.
For a brief moment, nothing moved.
Then—
The King turned.
His gaze fell upon Samuel once more, sharp, precise, as if evaluating something that had not been worth his attention before.
"The library?" he repeated.
Samuel met his gaze.
"Yes."
There was no explanation.
No justification.
Only intent.
The King studied him for a moment longer.
Then—
"You may."
The answer came without delay.
Without condition.
As if the matter itself held little value.
Samuel nodded once.
"That is sufficient."
He turned.
And walked away.
Edward followed shortly after, though not without a final glance toward the King.
—
Silence returned to the hall.
And this time—
The King stood alone.
For a moment, he did not move.
His gaze lingered on the direction Samuel had left, his expression unreadable.
"…the son of that woman," he said quietly.
There was no warmth in his tone.
Only memory.
"She alone did not seek power."
A pause followed.
Then—
"And yet…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…her child stands before me with no ambition."
The words fell flat.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
"How pathetic."
To reject the throne was to reject the bloodline itself.
To show no desire for power—
Was to prove one's own insignificance.
And yet—
A faint thought remained.
"…he did not kneel."
A simple observation.
Nothing more.
The King turned.
And left.
—
Beyond the hall, the palace stretched endlessly in silence.
Samuel walked forward without pause, his expression unchanged.
But within—
Something had already begun to move.
The weakness he had confirmed…
The gap he had felt…
It was no longer something distant.
It was immediate.
Real.
And for the first time—
Necessary.
His eyes shifted slightly.
The royal library.
A place of knowledge.
A place of answers.