Page 13 of The White King's Favorite

“Father, why is D-Dran chai-... chained...?” asked Cessi, holding her father’s arm as they walked inside.

“He’s being punished.”

“That idiot destroyed a mountain!” suddenly answered a feminine voice from inside.

“Auntie Nebbie!”

A beautiful woman appeared, with long, dark hair and pouty lips. She was wearing a floor-length, green dress and a coat, and from the way she carried a pile of clean clothes, she was probably a servant here, but to Yassim’s surprise, both girls greeted her like a family member.

“What did that idiot do?” laughed Tessa.

“The pair of idiots decided it would be fun to play between the mountains, until they broke several rocks and provoked a landslide,” sighed the dark-haired woman. “Darsan is not to come back until he puts it all back up, and Dran is not allowed to help him...”

She sent a glare toward the yellow beast, who answered with a growl. Yassim was lost. It couldn’t be that the War God had sent his son to put the mountain back with... his bare hands only? What kind of young man could do such a thing?! It would take months, even if it was possible! Those people had to be living in a different world or holding some secret power he hadn’t grasped...

“What are you girls doing here?” frowned the servant woman. “...Did Kiera run away again? She’s not here.”

“We know,” chuckled Tessa. “She probably ran to Grandmother’s or somewhere in the Capital with her friend.”

“...I need... t-to t-talk t-to Father,” muttered Cessilia.

Yassim took note that the young woman did seem nervous, and it reflected in her way of speech... The big, hopeful eyes she had on her father didn’t match his kind expression while looking at her, which made the old man more nervous. Princess Cessilia expected her father to be reluctant to do this.

Noticing the exchange between those two, and her eyes gliding over the old man, Aunt Nebbie frowned, but Tessa walked ahead, grabbing some towels.

“Aunt Nebora, should we make some tea first? And I have a few things to ask you to help us with...”

Taking her cue, Nebora nodded, and the two women quietly left, both sending worried or curious glances toward the strange trio left behind.

Poor Yassim was due for another dose of anxiety. He, along with the Princess, to explain to her father that he was about to take her to his King, a ruthless, young man who had beheaded his own father and taken over the Kingdom by force? Even the bravest man in the Empire would have begged the gods for mercy already! However, before the old man could lose the few white hairs he had left, Cessilia and her father walked to a room, a little salon on the side. There was the biggest fireplace he had ever seen, with a large fire easily warming up the whole room, and several huge cushions on a large carpet. There was only one massive wooden seat, but neither Cessilia nor her father sat. The War God removed his cape and threw it on the seat, and added wood to the fire with a dark expression. Cessilia was standing behind him, but after a while, she gently grabbed one of his hands with hers.

“Father... I want t-to go t-to the East-... Eastern K-Kingdom,” she muttered.

“Why?”

His question had come right away, with something strong in his voice. It didn’t sound like anger, just... determination. Yassim was surprised he hadn’t even been asked anything yet, but for the War God, only his daughter seemed to be here. He turned to her, and it was truly moving to see such an imposing and strong man have such tender gestures toward the young woman.

“...I r-... really want t-to go,” simply said Cessilia.

Although she had a tiny and hesitant voice, her green eyes were full of determination and unafraid to hold her father’s dark gaze too.

“K-King Ashen asked t-to see me,” she resumed. “I... I want t-to go.”

“To see you?”

This time, the War God’s words were directed at Yassim, and so was his terrifying glare. The old man bowed quickly, his throat tight, but he ought to at least stay something.

“P-Princess Cessilia is invited by... His Majesty, in hopes of... standing as his Queen.”

“...His Queen,” repeated the War God.

His voice was deep, and his emotions even harder to decipher. Yassim was silently praying to every god and goddess he knew, and hoping he’d be spared to see his plan succeed or fail. If only he could bring Princess Cessilia to His Majesty, then perhaps, there was hope... For now, though, the mountain standing before him was no other than the War God and a father who cherished his daughter deeply. Yassim was truly having a hard time understanding what those people were thinking, but he was already shocked that the War God hadn’t yet kicked him out or killed him. Instead, his eyes were still on Cessilia, perhaps conflicted. Was his daughter’s hopeful gaze making him really consider this insane request?

“...What did your mother say?”

“M-Mother said I c-could d-decide and live my own ad-dventure,” quickly answered Cessilia. “She a-... agreed. D-Dad, please...”

The War God let out a long sigh, and it felt as if a gush of hot wind was running through the room to echo his frustration. Yassim wasn’t cold anymore; he was sweating profusely. However, the War God raised his hand to gently caress his daughter’s cheek. Then, his fingers went down to her neck covered by her golden choker, and he frowned even more.

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