A sharp knock echoed through the hallway.
"Toki! Hurry up!" Utsuki's voice rang clear behind the door. "Leonard has the carriage ready. We can't afford to be late!"
Inside, Toki jolted upright from the velvet bench where he had been lost in thought. He snatched his shirt from the armrest and slipped it on hastily, followed by his black trousers and long grey mantle. With practiced hands, he strapped on his sword belt, then folded his red cloak and tucked it carefully into the hidden pocket sewn into his travel coat. Finally, he grabbed his polished cane—the one with the bronze handle—and took one last look around the room.
"Alright," he murmured to himself. "Let's not make history wait."
He stepped out into the sunlight, the great iron gates of the manor creaking open as he walked down the cobbled path. In front of the carriage stood Leonard, straight-backed and dressed in a nobleman's overcoat. Utsuki waited just beside him, dressed in an elegant indigo gown trimmed with starlight thread, while Tora leaned against the wheel of the carriage, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Took you long enough, slowpoke," she teased.
"Forgive me, ladies," said Toki, bowing with a dramatic flourish. "You know I never rush perfection."
He opened the door and helped Utsuki into the carriage first, then offered his hand to Tora. She raised an eyebrow but accepted it without comment. Once they were seated, he turned to Leonard.
"I'll ride up front with you."
"Of course," Leonard nodded.
Toki climbed up onto the front bench beside him and gave a small nudge to the bird-like creature perched atop the driver's seat. "Move along, Lumma. Give the reins to a real beast."
The winged beast gave a squawk of protest but hopped aside, letting Toki take the reins. The carriage jolted as they set off down the gravel road.
"So," Toki asked, glancing sidelong at Leonard, "how was your business trip? Successful?"
Leonard gave a knowing smile. "Promising. There's a new route through the western pass. Dangerous, but profitable. The kind of risk that pays well—if you're still alive at the end of it."
Toki chuckled. "You always did have a taste for games with knives."
Leonard's gaze fell to the cane leaning beside Toki's sword. "That's new. Picked it up recently?"
Toki nodded. "Yeah. Bought it after we went to the theatre together
"Stylish. A bit dramatic. Just like you."
Toki smirked. "Says the man wearing silver cufflinks before noon."
Leonard leaned back slightly. "Are you nervous? About the Royal Selection?"
A pause. Then Toki replied, more quietly, "Of course. But I can't show it. Not now. If I break, it might shake Utsuki's confidence. She needs me steady."
Leonard nodded approvingly. "Good answer. She's the blade. You're the scabbard."
"No," Toki corrected. "She's the future. I'm just… the shadow that clears her path."
The city began to rise around them. From the outer edges of the capital—dusty roads and merchants shouting in the morning air—they passed into the noble districts, where marble towers lined the streets and enchanted lanterns still glowed even in daylight.
Finally, the palace gates came into view.
It was immense. A thousand windows glinting in the sunlight, balconies shaped like wings, and towers crowned with banners bearing the royal crest. The white stone shimmered faintly, as though kissed by magic.
Leonard raised a gloved hand to the guards. Without a word, the massive gates swung open. Toki guided the carriage into the palace courtyard.
"You weren't exaggerating, Leonard," said Toki, his eyes wide. "You've got more pull in this city than I thought."
Leonard gave a small laugh. "I told you. You're Utsuki's sword. I'm her wallet."
Toki brought the carriage to a smooth stop. He leapt down and opened the door for the girls. Utsuki stepped out first, her breath catching at the sight of the palace.
"It's… beautiful," she whispered.
Tora followed, her eyes narrowing in admiration. "I've seen fortresses. But this? This is like a dream stitched in marble."
Leonard clapped once, sharp and authoritative. "No time for sightseeing. We're expected."
He led the way toward the towering entrance, his boots echoing against the white stone. Toki and the girls followed close behind, the shadow of destiny growing larger with each step.
The last set of immense wooden doors swung open, revealing a breathtaking chamber bathed in sunlight. At the far end sat the Great Throne, flanked by four smaller seats carved in intricate swirls of ivory and gold. Along the walls, hundreds of guards stood motionless, their armor glinting like polished mirrors.
In the circular floor's center, three groups awaited: each composed of an extravagant woman and her accompanying knight. Their attire proclaimed their status—rich fabrics, ornate jewelry, proud posture. Toki's heart skipped. These must be the other candidates in the Royal Selection, each with her champion by her side.
Toki stole a glance at Utsuki, radiant and composed even among royalty. Relief washed over him—her presence was as luminous as any of the other candidates. But then his eyes drifted to the knights. I should have prepared more, he thought, suddenly self-conscious about his own readiness.
One knight, a tall figure with shoulder-length black hair and intense green eyes, advanced with confident grace. His uniform, sharply tailored, nestled a polished steel rapier at his hip—its pommel crowned by a steel rose. He bowed deeply, then turned toward Utsuki.
"A splendid morning indeed, Lady Utsuki," he said, voice smooth and warm. He gently took her gloved hand and kissed it with practiced elegance. "I am Bernard Edmund, commander of the First Division."
He straightened and reached for Toki's hand. With a friendly twinkle, he continued, "You must be Toki. Leonard mentioned you're vying for the captaincy of the Fourth Division—vacant, as you know. I truly admire your perseverance. I hope we may become friends."
Toki shook Bernard's hand firmly. "Thank you. It's an honor. I've heard much about your leadership."
Before they could continue, a sharp voice cut through the chamber. "Bernard!" Startled, Bernard swung his head toward the sound.
"It seems my lady awaits." He offered a polite nod to Toki. "Delighted to meet you." With that, he strode to join his own candidate. Along the way, Toki noticed the others wore insignias marked "2" and "3"—their companions.
Toki and Utsuki exchanged a glance and moved to stand beside them. The other knights acknowledged them with curt nods but offered no words. The quiet air hummed with anticipation.
Then, a hush swept over the crowd as a regal figure entered: an elderly man crowned in silver filigree, flanked by four equally dignified companions—each with a crown of discreet design. Leonard leaned toward Toki and whispered, "That is King Matthias, along with his four royal advisors."
The King settled upon the main throne, his advisors taking the smaller seats to either side. Expression poised in benevolent authority, King Matthias addressed the assembly.
"I hereby declare the first meeting of the Royal Selection… now open." His voice carried throughout the hall, strong yet calm. "Let us begin the formal introductions."
"I am Elizabeth Silas," said the woman beside Bernard, her voice sharp and commanding. "And I stand here with my knight, Bernard Edmund, to claim my rightful place upon the throne."
Her fiery red hair cascaded down her back like a living flame, accentuated by a gown the color of burning embers—orange laced with inky black patterns, like smoke curling from a fire. Her dark brown eyes held the glint of live coals, fierce and unrelenting. She was beautiful, but in the way a wildfire is—majestic, unstoppable, dangerous.
The man bearing the insignia marked "2" stepped forward next. His voice was low but confident. "My name is Reginald Edmund, and this is Lady Rosalin Berg."
Lady Rosalin moved with a dancer's grace. Her golden hair shimmered like ripe wheat beneath the high windows. Her sky-blue dress fluttered with her motion, and her eyes, the color of a deep ocean, gave off the stillness of nobility honed over generations. She performed a dignified curtsy.
The third knight bowed as he introduced himself. "I am Harold Edmund, and this is Lady Mellisa Luther."
Mellisa stepped forward. Her chestnut hair was tied back in a sharp braid, and her green eyes scanned the room like a blade in search of weakness. She wore a yellow gown that shimmered like sunlight, yet there was nothing soft about her gaze. When she bowed, it was the bow of a warrior, not a princess.
Toki stood silent, piecing the connection together: They all share the name Edmund… Just like Leonard told me. They're from the same family—the royal house of blades.
With a breath, he stepped forward. The polished floor reflected his every move. Then, bending on one knee with quiet resolve, he said, "Your Majesty, I am Toki Ikaru, a wandering knight. I stand here beside Lady Utsuki Jin."
Utsuki bowed gracefully, hands folded in front of her, her silver hair catching the sunlight like fresh-fallen snow.
A cold voice pierced the reverence of the hall. "What is she doing here?"
Gasps whispered across the chamber.
Lady Rosalin had not moved from her place, but her expression curled into disdain as she pointed toward Utsuki.
"That woman is clearly a witch," Rosalin continued, her tone laced with venom. "Why is someone like that among us?"
Utsuki lowered her head. Her lips pressed into a thin line, a glimmer of pain passing across her features.
Bernard turned sharply. "Lady Rosalin, that is not appropriate. We are here to speak of merit and leadership, not to judge appearance or rumor."
Toki stood frozen, staring down at the floor. Shame, anger, and helplessness churned in his chest. Then, with a sudden movement, he reached out and gave Utsuki a light smack on the rear.
She spun around, crimson blooming on her cheeks. "What was that for?"
He looked her dead in the eyes. "Back straight. Don't forget why we're here."
For a moment, her shock melted into steadiness. She faced forward, raised her chin, and stepped boldly ahead, placing one hand over her heart.
"I am not a witch," Utsuki said, voice clear and calm. "But I have been judged as one for most of my life. I am here today not to prove my blood, but my heart. I wish to build a world where all people—no matter their origin—have equal worth. That is my vow."
A hush swept the chamber. Even King Matthias, seated upon the grand throne, allowed a faint smile to touch his lips.
In his mind, Bernard thought: That was a rather unconventional strategy, Toki. But… I see the truth in it.
King Matthias's gaze now turned to Toki. His voice echoed through the hall.
"Young man. It has come to my attention that you seek the vacant title of Captain of the Fourth Division. And yet… you are unlike the others here. You hold no noble rank, no commission, no coronation. You are not even a knight of the realm. Tell me, then—why do you believe you deserve such a post?"
Toki lifted his head slowly. There was no arrogance in his face—only conviction.
"If there is suffering and hunger in the outskirts of your kingdom," he said steadily, "then I ask, what makes you worthy of being king?"
A wave of murmurs surged like a rising tide.
The royal advisors sprang to their feet. "Outrageous!" one shouted. "Blasphemous insolence!" barked another.
But King Matthias raised his hand.
The room fell into immediate silence. He leaned forward, studying Toki with an unreadable expression.
"Continue, young man."
Toki stepped forward, heart hammering in his chest. His voice never wavered.
"Maybe I'm not a crowned knight. Maybe I wasn't born in silk. But I am someone who wants to bring joy to those who've known only sorrow. I've seen the darkness in this world, and I refuse to let it consume the light."
He reached into his coat and withdrew a small, threadbare cloak—his old traveler's mantle—and draped it around his neck like a badge.
"I have no royal lineage, no family crest. But I believe that every life, noble or lowborn, has value. I want to be closer to the people, not above them. That is why I seek this post."
Silence fell again, heavier this time. Even the common folk gathered near the edges of the city, watching through enchanted crystal mirrors, held their breath.
King Matthias leaned back in his throne. "You are full of surprises, young man," he said. "And I do want my people to smile again… But I cannot simply hand over a title of such gravity."
He turned to one of his advisors, who gave a solemn nod.
"I will grant you a chance to prove your worth," said the king, voice deep and resonant. "You will fight the man who trained Bernard, Reginald, and Harold."
A sharp inhale from the crowd.
Bernard stepped forward, concern in his eyes. "Your Majesty, with all due respect… That may be too much. Toki has no formal training. He could be seriously injured."
Toki didn't flinch.
"I accept."
His voice rang with finality.
"I will do whatever it takes," he said, "to fulfill my purpose."