Like any other evening, I was taking a bath. Being bathed by older girls always stirred my teenage mind—despite the fact that I was trapped in a five-year-old body. The warm water dulled the tension in my muscles, but my mind remained sharp.
But this evening, my thoughts were elsewhere.
Yesterday, I had deliberately let Mary see me working on my strategies and war documents. It wasn't an accident—it was a test. I needed to prove I was capable, to make her take my documents to my father. Everything was prepared. I just had to oversee the reforms myself.
Or so I thought.
"Jill, where's Mary?" I asked, noticing her absence.
"She said she won't be joining us today, so I brought Lily along," Jill replied.
It hit me instantly.
She moved early.
Mary had already made her move to deliver my documents to the king. It was part of my plan—but not yet. I still had adjustments to make. There were things in those documents I hadn't finalized. I had to stop her.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my bathrobe and, out of sheer reflex, my wooden sword. Then, I sprinted toward my room.
As I reached the door, my stomach sank.
Mary was already there. And worse—she had picked up the wrong documents. The ones I had planned to dispose of later.
She turned just in time to see me standing in the doorway, wooden sword in hand, blocking her escape. She clutched the incorrect papers to her chest, eyes wide.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
I had no intention of harming her. But she didn't know that.
We locked eyes.
And I broke the silence.
"The documents you're looking for are in the table's drawers," I said calmly. "But I still need to add a few more notes before you take them to my father. Will that be a problem?"
Mary didn't answer right away. Instead, she took a step back, retreating behind the desk as if I were some kind of threat. Her eyes darted to the wooden sword in my hand.
"Exactly who… or what are you, Your Highness?" she asked, her voice laced with fear.
Her eyes darkened. I could see it—the shift from trust to doubt. To fear.
"Answer me," she whispered.
She thought I would attack her.
I sighed, tossing the wooden sword aside before closing the door behind me. Without another word, I walked to one of the sofas and sat down. Then, with a steady voice, I said,
"Let's have a heartfelt talk, Mary."
She tensed.
"I am no more than the crown prince of Drakseid," I continued, my tone unwavering. "The son of your king and queen. You have always trusted me, haven't you? Trust me now, as I trust you."
Mary's shoulders relaxed slightly. Slowly, she placed the stack of papers and scrolls onto the table before lowering herself into the seat across from me.
But something was different.
The way she looked at me—it wasn't the same as before. There was doubt, fear, maybe even something else I couldn't quite place.
It stung.
But I couldn't let it shake me. I needed to mend our relationship. And more than that—I needed her help.
Mary sat stiffly across from me, her hands resting on her lap, but her fingers twitched as if she wanted to grab the papers again. Her eyes, usually filled with warmth and quiet admiration, now held a flicker of doubt.
I leaned back into the sofa, keeping my voice steady. "You've known me since I could barely walk, Mary. Why do you look at me like I'm a stranger?"
She hesitated before answering. "Because I don't know what you are anymore, Your Highness."
Her words were sharper than I expected. A direct challenge.
I smiled faintly. "What I am? I thought it was clear—I'm a prince who doesn't want to be a fool. Is that so terrifying?"
Her hands clenched. "You are different. Children don't draft military reforms. They don't prepare for war. And they don't look at people the way you do."
I tilted my head. "And how do I look at people, Mary?"
Her lips parted slightly, but she hesitated. "Like you're measuring them. Like you already know what they're going to do before they do it."
Clever girl. She was paying attention.
I exhaled through my nose, keeping my expression relaxed. "Then tell me—do you think I would measure you and find you lacking?"
Her brows furrowed. "No, but…" She shook her head. "This isn't normal."
I let out a chuckle. "Normal? Do you think our enemies will hesitate just because of my age? Will a blade stop at my throat out of pity? War is coming, Mary, and we don't have the luxury of time."
Mary looked away, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress. "That's not the point."
"Then tell me what is."
She drew a sharp breath before meeting my gaze with rare defiance. "I want the truth, your Highness. How did you become... like this? And is war truly inevitable?"
The silence stretched between us.
I didn't flinch. Didn't let my expression waver. She was asking for something I couldn't give.
Instead, I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "Mary, I can't change what you already suspect. But you need to understand—everything I do, every choice I make, is for the kingdom. For my family. For you. And war isn't a possibility; it's a certainty. Give it a decade, and the Distia Empire will come to claim our kingdom, turning our people into their slaves."
Her breath hitched slightly at that last part, but she said nothing.
I reached out, gently placing my hand over hers. "You've always been loyal to me. Will you trust me now?"
She studied my face, searching for something—deception, perhaps. But I had given her nothing to find.
Finally, she exhaled. "I don't understand you, Your Highness."
"Then try," I said softly.
A long pause. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Alright. I'll trust you. But promise me one thing."
"Name it."
She swallowed. "Don't carry everything alone."
I let a small smile cross my lips. "That depends. Will you help me carry it?"
Mary's eyes softened. "If you let me."
"Then it's a promise."
The tension in the room eased. The doubt wasn't entirely gone, but it was fading.
That was enough for now.
Mary's eyes followed me as I left the room. She still had questions. Good.
I had questions too. And soon enough, I'd have answers.
After two days, Mary delivered the documents to my father as planned. Now, the real challenge began—I had to stand before the royal court and prove my worth.
The great hall was filled with ministers, nobles, and military officials, all gathered to witness what they assumed would be nothing more than a prince's childish ambition being struck down. I could feel their skepticism pressing down on me, but I stood firm. I had no intention of being dismissed.
As expected, my father scrutinized every proposal I put forward, challenging my reasoning, questioning my logic, and testing my resolve. But I was ready.
For every concern he raised, I countered with cold, calculated responses. For every doubt he voiced, I laid out undeniable facts and foresaw his arguments before he could even make them. I cited our kingdom's vulnerabilities, exposed the flaws in our current military structure, and presented solutions that left even the most seasoned officials speechless.
The court, once filled with murmurs of doubt and quiet chuckles at the idea of a child proposing military reform, had fallen into stunned silence. Even my father, a man not easily shaken, studied me with an intensity I had never seen before.
The weight of the moment was immense, but I refused to let it show. I couldn't afford to. If I faltered even once, they would see me as nothing more than a boy playing at war.
By the time I was finished, there was no laughter, no dismissive glances—only solemn nods and heavy consideration.
It was a success.
The reforms were approved. Not only that, but I was to work alongside Prime Minister Josh and the Commander-in-Chief of the Army, General Greg I. Maxwell. The kingdom's path had been set, and now, it was time to walk it.
Things were about to change. The road ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear—we were no longer content with survival.
We are marching toward glory and honor.
As I stepped out of the court, the tension in my shoulders eased—only slightly. Waiting for me was Mary, her expression unreadable, though a hint of admiration lingered in her eyes.
"Excellent work, Your Highness. You were… dazzling."
I allowed myself a small smirk. "Thank you, Mary. Now, is everything in place for Phase II?"
She gave a slight nod. "Yes, Your Highness. Every preparation has been made. We can begin at your command."
I glanced toward the towering halls of the palace, where decisions that shaped nations had just been made. But we weren't finished—not yet.
"Not now," I said, my voice low. "There's something more pressing to discuss first."
Mary straightened, sensing the shift in my tone.
"We're about to be very busy."
I turned my gaze toward the horizon beyond the palace walls. The court may have been swayed today, but words alone wouldn't secure our future. The real battle was only beginning.
Mary stood silently, waiting.
"Summon Prime Minister Josh and Commander Maxwell," I ordered. "Tell them the prince has work to do."
She hesitated for only a moment before bowing. "As you command."
As she disappeared into the corridors, I exhaled slowly.
The kingdom had taken its first step toward true strength. Now, we would see who had the will to march forward—and who would be left behind.
From this moment forward, there would be no hesitation, no doubts, and no mercy. The die was cast—now, all that remained was to push forth.