"Did the king do right by letting his son walk into death, knowing he had other children?"
"Was it the prince's duty to obey and die?"
"Or was this all an injustice masked by sacrifice?"
Kent inhaled deeply.
The tale stirred something in him. The weight of loyalty, the pull of destiny, and the balance between duty and love. He had once promised to protect others by giving his life. He knew what such a vow cost.
And so, he answered:
"The king's heart was torn, as a father's should be. But he asked, not commanded. That alone gives weight to the decision.
The prince chose not out of obedience, but out of purpose. His silence was not weakness—it was a waiting strength. When the moment came, he voiced not sorrow but truth.
And so, it was not injustice. It was dharma—his path. Selfless will in service of many.
A ruler does not only lead by sword or speech, but by sacrifice when needed."
Silence.
The beast's glowing eyes narrowed, then softened.
It bowed its head.
