The wanderer & The seeker

“Huh?” Andromeda was stunned by Nikos’ words. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped around her. She couldn’t believe what she had just heard—her own son, dismissing his brother so easily.

Her hand clenched tightly at her side, the knuckles turning white as a wave of frustration and anger coursed through her. Every fiber of her being wanted to speak, to defend Cyrus. But as she opened her mouth, the words clung stubbornly to the back of her throat, refusing to be spoken. A silent scream echoed within her, a cry for the son who had always been overshadowed.

Aesop, couldn’t suppress a chuckle. His face lit up with amusement, and a quiet, satisfied laugh escaped his lips. “Well, well, it seems my retirement will have to wait after all. This boy… I really like him,”

Next to him, he heard the soft sound of a long, exasperated sigh. He glanced to his side to see Princess Eileen, her expression twisted with disgust. It was clear her emotions were far from hidden—her grimace betrayed the distaste she felt at the scene unfolding before her.

Aesop thought to himself, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen that expression.”

Out loud, he said with a smirk, “My princess, mind your expressions. I doubt you’d want anyone to catch you looking like that.”

Princess Eileen’s grim eyes lifted to meet his, locking with his gaze. For a few seconds, the air between them felt thick. But Aesop, unwilling to prolong the moment, was the first to look away. Internally, he sighed, “Forgive me, truly. I’ve said too much, little one. Just forget what I said and stop glaring at me. I’d almost forgotten how terrifying you can be when you’re angry. Best I stay on your good side… I’d rather not return to the capital on horseback. My poor back couldn’t handle that.”

After Aesop broke their eye contact, Princess Eileen’s cold hazel eyes shifted back to Nikos, her displeasure evident. She did not approve of what Nikos had said. Family, to her, was more than just a bond—it was a sacred duty. Eileen had always held the concept of family in the highest regard, and she was the very reason why the imperial family remained free of internal strife. Whenever tensions arose, it was she who stepped in, quelling disputes and mending relationships. Whether it was disagreements among her half-siblings or clashes involving her uncles, Eileen ensured peace was maintained. Her role as the emperor’s beloved daughter and the only surviving legacy of the late empress granted her a special status—one that commanded both respect and deference.

Aesop, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, adjusted his posture. He straightened his back and raised his chin, adopting a formal tone. “At this place and time,” he began, his voice echoing through the courtyard, “from within MOON village, before the palace of the original Hyctria family, in the year 627, on the 1st day of the second month, I, Elder Aesop, officially recognize Nikos Hyctria as eligible to train under the wing of the Imperial Knights.”

Aesop turned his gaze toward Princess Eileen, then lowered his head in a deep bow, his voice steady but respectful. “Member of the Imperial Family, Princess Eileen Norsian, as the former personal attendant to the late Empress and one of the ten commanders of the Imperial Knights, I humbly endorse the boy Nikos. I hope you will bless him and approve his path to becoming a trainee under the wing of the Imperial Knights.”

To become one of the Imperial Knights, two critical conditions had to be met: first, endorsement by a member of the Imperial Knights or someone of higher rank; and second, recognition and acceptance by a member of the Imperial Family.

From behind her ornate ‏folding fan, which obscured her face save for her furrowed eyes, Eileen’s voice rang out, clear and cold. “No.”

A silence settled over the courtyard. Then, after a brief pause, she continued, her tone unyielding, “I will not approve him. A young member of the Hyctria family, upon reaching adulthood and arriving at the capital, will be evaluated there once again. Based on the results, a member of the family will either accept or reject him. As for now, I refuse to do so.”

Nikos was taken aback by the princess’s words. Her meaning was unmistakable—rejection. He felt his pulse quicken, nerves prickling under his skin. His gaze shifted anxiously to Alexander. Yet his father remained as composed as ever, that same unwavering smile still etched across his face since the beginning . As their eyes met, Alexander silently mouthed, “Don’t worry, you’ve succeeded.”

Succeeded? Nikos thought, confusion swirling in his mind. What does he mean by that? But before he could dwell on it further, the sharp sound of Eileen snapping her fan shut drew his attention. The delicate movement revealed her angelic face.

Eileen’s eyes shifted toward Andromeda, her tone softening slightly as she spoke with a hint of regret. “I apologize if we have burdened you.”

Andromeda bowed her head just enough to show respect, but her voice, though calm, carried a subtle edge. “Not at all, Your Highness. Your presence here is a blessing we celebrate and will speak of with pride, so how could we ever be troubled?”

After listening to Andromeda’s words, Eileen gave a curt nod. She then turned and made her way toward the door of her carriage. “Well, now I must take my leave. This lazy princess has many delayed tasks awaiting her in the capital,”

Leon, stepped forward and extended his hand to assist her in boarding. Eileen lightly leaned on his hand, stepping up the small staircase to the carriage door. But just before entering, she paused, her back still facing the group. Without turning around, she spoke. “Aesop, you won’t be riding the carriage.”

There was no explanation, no room for negotiation in her words. She simply entered the carriage, and Leon, closed the door behind her.

Aesop let out a long, weary sigh, bowing slightly. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he muttered under his breath, the exhaustion evident in his tone.

After raising his head, Aesop turned his gaze back to Nikos, his smile widening. He ruffled Nikos’ hair and said, “Nikos, don’t worry about her. She’s kind at heart and won’t dwell on what happened for long. As for your future, it’s going to shine with the Imperial Knights. When you come of age, head straight to the capital and come directly to me.”

Nikos returned the smile, feeling a bit more at ease. “Thank you. I hope I can live up to the expectations.”

Aesop let out a hearty laugh, suddenly slapping Nikos on the back with more force than necessary. “Boy, you’ve not just lived up to the expectations no you’ve practically pissed on them! Hahaha!”

Nikos nearly stumbled from the force of the slap, laughing nervously. “Haha…?”

As Aesop chuckled, he caught a glimpse of the princess’s carriage starting to roll away behind him. Letting out an exaggerated groan, he removed his hand from Nikos’ back and muttered, “Why is it that every time she gets mad, I end up on horseback? This is no good for an old man’s back, I tell you.”

Aesop’s gaze shifted to one of the knights, Kevin, who was doing his best to avoid eye contact. Aesop, never one to let things slide, shouted, “Hey, Kevin, you ungrateful fool! You expect me to walk back on foot? Give me your horse, you ungrateful brat! Twenty years I’ve spent supervising you, training you, and look at you now—One of the princess's personal guard! And this is how you repay me? Get over here, you worthless pest!”

Kevin, clearly frustrated beneath his helmet, muttered to himself as he dismounted, “Twenty years of supervising me? It’s was more like twenty years of slavery. When will this filthy old man finally kick the bucket?” His face, however, was plastered with a wide, forced smile as he approached Aesop.

As Kevin handed over the reins of his horse, Aesop cast a condescending look his way, his eyes brimming with disdain. Without a word, he mounted the horse, not even sparing Kevin a second glance before riding off. Kevin, left powerless and fuming, followed on foot, his forced smile long gone.

“One day…” Kevin muttered under his breath, his fists clenched in silent frustration. “One day, that old man will pay for this.”