The morning in the Orvallis Palace was unusually gray —
as if the sun itself hesitated to shine on a kingdom whose core had changed far more than its surface.
In the fourth prince's chamber, Ken sat at his desk, surrounded by papers that rose around him like walls of secrets.
The only sound in the room was the soft turning of pages.
Gray stood by the door, waiting for orders.
Ken finally lifted his gaze, his calm tone edged with quiet unease.
"Marvin… I want a list of every noble whose trade or fortune flourished in the last four years.
Every project, every deal, every name that rose while I was away."
Marvin bowed deeply, his face a mix of focus and faint fear.
"It will take a few days, Your Highness. But I promise to return with a full list."
After Marvin left, Ken's eyes drifted toward a map spread across the desk —
lines connecting mines to ports, and ports to cities.
Every new mark he drew felt like another thread in a web whose center he could not yet see…
but he was beginning to suspect who was weaving it.
Three quiet days passed before Marvin returned,
carrying a heavy bundle of folders under his arm.
When he set them on the desk, one pattern immediately stood out —
a trace too deliberate to be hidden.
"Every successful project, every company reborn from ruin, every noble house that avoided collapse…
they're all connected to one man, my lord."
Ken's eyes narrowed, as if staring at a truth he had already feared.
"Let me guess… Darius."
Marvin nodded slowly and opened one of the files, his fingers brushing across a red wax seal —
emblazoned with the same name: Darius Orvallis.
That evening, Ken made a decision no one expected —
he would blend in.
He attended a small economic council in the royal hall,
sitting among nobles heavy with gold and empty with repetition.
They spoke with smug certainty about the new alliance,
about the trade with Safina,
about the financial renaissance led by Prince Darius.
One of them raised his glass, laughing loudly.
"If not for Darius, we'd have lost our crowns long ago!"
Laughter rippled through the room.
Ken smiled faintly — a smile that never reached his eyes.
Inside, the words struck him like a slow knife.
Our crowns? he thought.
Or his?
That night, back in his chamber, the echo of that laughter wouldn't leave his head.
It rang like a cracked bell.
The next morning, as Ken crossed the palace gardens, he saw her — Elaine.
She stood by a marble fountain, holding a lavender-colored book in her hands.
When she noticed him, she raised her head with a polite smile;
her gray eyes caught the morning light and reflected it like polished steel.
She spoke with graceful ease:
"It seems the garden has finally regained its calm since your return, Your Highness.
They say a place often mirrors its owner."
Ken stopped a few steps away from her, his reply calm but heavy with thought:
"Calm isn't always peace, Lady Elaine…
sometimes it's the quiet before a storm."
She smiled lightly, her curiosity barely hidden.
"Perhaps. But my father says the real storm in this kingdom is Darius.
He calls him a genius — the savior of Orvallian finance."
Ken turned his gaze toward the trees, a shadow flickering behind his calm expression.
His voice was low when he finally spoke:
"Genius isn't about amassing wealth…
it's about knowing who truly owns it in the end."
Elaine felt something behind those words — a wound, not an opinion.
But she didn't dare ask.
By evening, Marvin returned again — but this time his face carried a new tension.
He placed several small ledgers and a map on the desk.
"I found something, my lord. A repeating pattern — one that can't be ignored."
Ken approached slowly, watching as Marvin spread the documents out.
"Each noble house connected to Darius did so differently," Marvin explained.
"Some he saved from bankruptcy at the perfect moment,
others he tempted with guaranteed profit shares,
and some were granted exclusive contracts so long and binding,
no one dared question them."
Ken studied the map — circles drawn around prominent names: Randall, Fitzburg, Hafner, even the Royal Trade Council.
Every arrow converged on one point: D.O.
Silence hung thick in the room.
Then Ken murmured, voice cold and thoughtful, almost to himself:
"A network… stretching from the markets to the palace itself.
Darius didn't build a new economy —
he built a kingdom within the kingdom."
He walked toward the window.
Beyond the glass, the lights of the capital glittered faintly,
like jewels scattered across the body of something quietly dying.
His breathing quickened just a little,
but his tone stayed calm when he said:
"I won't bring him down with a sword, Marvin…
I'll use the very thing he built — against him."
At that moment, Gray entered, holding a small folded note.
His tone was nervous but steady.
"Your Highness… merchants in the capital have begun raising prices without clearance from the ministry."
Ken's lips curved into a faint, cold smile —
the kind that gleamed like a dagger catching moonlight.
"Let them.
I want to see who moves them first."
The night ended with a new map pinned to the wall —
and at its center, written in bold black ink, was one name: Darius.
Ken sat before it in silence.
The candles melted slowly, counting down the hours until confrontation.
Then, in the solitude of that dimly lit room, he whispered:
"Every thread begins with him…
and every thread will end with him."
End of Chapter