William slipped a second earring from the vendor's tray and turned without another word.
"Did he really come all this way… just to buy earrings?" the first shadowed figure murmured, eyes locked on William's retreating form.
"We weren't told to interfere. Only to watch," another replied, melting into the shifting crowd.
They're watching closely.
But are they ready for what comes next?
William's expression remained calm—too calm. Like the ocean just before it drowns the shore. His gaze swept the square, sharp and searching. The Third Eye opened.
Not him.
Not him.
Then—his eyes landed on a man standing by a spice shop. Stationary. Watching.
Found you.
William moved, slow at first, but each step faster than the last.
The man turned just as they collided.
Bump.
Crash.
The box of earrings tumbled from William's hands.
"M-My apologies," William said quickly, voice flustered, almost boyish.
"No, it's fine! I wasn't looking," the man replied with a sheepish smile, crouching to help gather the scattered jewelry.
William knelt beside him, hand brushing the man's wrist.
Spark.
He leaned in close. Barely a whisper.
"I, William of House Medici… command you to obey."
The man's pupils dilated, then dulled.
"…Yes, my lord," he replied. Lifeless. Empty.
"Reveal your badge of the Royal Guard," William said smoothly. "Then, when the vendor behind me drops his coin—pick it up. Shake his hand when he thanks you."
"After that, escort me to the palace. When I say '*****', you will attack Edgar."
They both stood. William calmly dusted off his trousers.
Cough.
Cough.
Right on cue.
Clink.
The gold coin dropped behind him.
The hypnotized guard turned, bent down, and picked it up.
"Thank you so much, sir!" the vendor beamed.
"No problem," the guard answered—his tone eerily normal, almost too human for someone under a spell.
Then, without another word, he took William by the arm and began leading him toward the Royal Palace.
From afar, the two observers watched, tension thick between them.
"…Why did he reveal himself?" the first muttered. "Wasn't the order to stay hidden?"
The second didn't answer—just stared, unsettled.
Because the game had already begun.
*************************************************************
They approached the palace gates. William walked just behind the royal guard, his gaze casually sweeping the courtyard—until it locked onto a familiar figure.
Edgar.
He had just stepped out of the black carriage stationed beside the entrance. Officials clustered around him, with David standing at his right like a shadow forged in steel.
Step. Step.
"Father!" William called out, suddenly running ahead, voice bright and carefree. "How was your trip?"
Edgar turned, his eyes softening—then narrowing.
Jump.
"Die, filthy human!"
The blade came from nowhere—glinting steel racing toward Edgar's face.
Slash.
Slash. Slash.
A blur. Then blood.
The guard's lifeless body hit the ground, crimson pooling beneath him. Edgar had moved in a flash, positioning himself in front of William, shielding him from the spray of red.
David stood beside the corpse, his sword already clean. It had never even been sheathed.
Confusion erupted. Shouts. Frozen officials. Chaos blooming like fire.
Edgar's eyes cut toward Kimal, the secretary standing pale and trembling a few feet away. His lips parted, but no words escaped.
Edgar's voice dropped—calm. Dangerously calm.
"Care to explain what just happened, Mr. Secretary?"
"I… I…" Kimal stammered, stunned speechless.
Sigh.
Kimal dropped to one knee, bowing deeply. "I beg forgiveness, my lord… for my failure."
But Edgar had already turned toward William, fury rising behind his eyes.
"What was he doing with you?" His voice thundered like a storm.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? He could have killed you!"
William flinched, dropped to his knees.
"I'm sorry, Father… I didn't know," he said, voice cracking with emotion. "He showed me his Royal Guard badge. He said you assigned him to protect me…"
William fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small case.
"I went out… because I wanted to bring you a gift."
He opened it.
Spark.
Inside lay a single emerald-green earring, glinting softly like dew under moonlight.
Edgar stared at it in silence. Then he picked it up, his expression unreadable.
His eyes slid toward Kimal again.
"Who authorized William to leave the estate?"
Kimal knelt deeper. "My lord, we will investigate immediately. Please… don't let this ruin your mood."
Edgar smirked coldly.
"I'm deeply moved by His Majesty's hospitality."
The sarcasm in his voice was sharp enough to cut.
He took William's hand and turned away without another word. David followed silently behind them, eyes scanning everyone.
Their silhouettes faded into the palace as the courtyard fell into uneasy silence.
Kimal slowly rose, brushing the dust from his jacket.
He turned toward the secret guards hidden along the perimeter.
"Explain. Now."
One of the observers—the same man from the market—stepped forward, his voice thick.
"We're… not entirely sure, my lord. But before the attack, our man shook hands with a stranger. He was acting odd—ranting about a treasure that would 'change your fate.'"
Kimal's brows drew tight.
"Stranger?"
"Yes, my lord," the man replied, his gaze dropping to the corpse of the guard. His voice grew heavier. "That stranger also met with Young Master William. He must have known who he was… and then he did something. We believe he manipulated our brother—turned him against Lord Edgar."
A tense silence followed.
"We can't say anything for certain yet."
Kimal's voice was calm. Too calm.
"Then find him. Immediately."
___________________________________________________________
William walked beside Edgar through the marble corridor of the guest palace, their footsteps echoing faintly under the high ceilings.
The silence between them was tense—palpable. But within William's mind, a voice stirred.
[WHY DID YOU DO THAT]
Still here? William replied with a smirk, his tone teasing in thought. You were so quiet, I assumed you'd vanished.
[ANSWER ME FIRST.]
Alright, alright.
William's eyes flicked briefly toward Edgar, who strode forward with that same noble stiffness, unaware of the storm behind his son's calm gaze.
In my past life, I learned something crucial, William said silently. Whenever you're in a negotiation—or being watched—you must create your own leverage. Today was about that. I needed to shift the balance.
[YOU ENDANGERED YOURSELF?.]
Not really. William's mental tone was casual, but precise. Their surveillance was choking me. I had to force them to blink—to look away, even briefly.
He glanced toward the hall's tall windows, watching sunlight spill across the polished floor.
I didn't do anything extraordinary. I simply told the vendor to drop his coin… then to shake the guard's hand when he returned it. So when the guard attacked, they'd question the sudden behavioral shift—maybe suspect possession, mind control. It's natural they'd trace it back to the last odd interaction.
William's smirk deepened in thought.
And who looks more suspicious than a ranting vendor shouting about treasures and fate?
[WAIT —WHAT DID YOU TELL THE VENDOR AFTER THAT ?]
William's eyes glinted.
I told him to "********."*
A pause.
Then—
[HA HA HA… YOU'RE NOT BAD.]
William thought, his eyes narrowing with quiet satisfaction.
They'll be busy chasing shadows for a while.
[WIZ]: [DEAR READERS ANY IDEA WHAT WILL HAPPEN NEXT