Kings Path の小説・ストーリー

"I suppose that's the best I'm getting." Dad chuckled quietly beside her. And then the expedition commander stepped forward. "Your Majesty." Mom nodded. "Report." "The entrance path remains stable." A glowing map expanded before everyone. Silver light traced a narrow route cutting directly through Bloodbury Forest. It looked frighteningly thin. "As long as the forest doesn't shift again," the commander continued, "..this route should lead us toward the central heart." Silence settled over everyone at the mere mention of the heart. Because that is where Eros was. The rightful heir and their rightful future king..

It looked majestic in every way and felt like another kingdom within the kingdom. Pathways stretched like tree branches along the floor, with each leading to various areas of importance. The horse raced along the marbled path leading straight until they were through two giant statues of kings, pointing the way to a four-floor architectural marvel directly up ahead. On getting to the building's front yard, the carriage turned to the side for the occupant within to have direct access to the entrance when they stepped out. The guards following the cart popped open the door and a lady fair as snow stepped out majestically.

Yeong steps forward to open a door, allowing Dyan to walk through it. When they reach the trail of the garden that leads to the chambers of the Prince, he mumbles under his breath. "Loosening up? My apologies. But I do not understand." "It's a phrase used in the human world. "The young prince smugly says. "Tell you what. Next time I visit their realm, I'll take you with me." The moment they arrive inside his parliament, Dyan relaxes his shoulders and stares at the girl unconscious in his bed.

We couldn't walk all the way to Devon, right? "I didn't know that the gangsters were from another kingdom." I said. "They are not, they are only hiding here. Did you hear our conversation?" Alexander decided to ask. "Every word." He hummed in appreciation. Then we continued our long journey. We did not say another word. The silence was uncomfortable but the king seemed contented with it. I was quite suprised that the king of Devon was treking. It's unheard of, for a king to go somewhere without the carriage. It was definitely going to be a long journey. It was at least going to be an hour's walk.

It asked him where he wanted to be. Niquel conjured an image of Gladdy in his mind, as clear as he could make it, then answered in an equal manner. “To she who shall ascend to the throne.” Next it asked for payment. “The Dragon King’s blood,” he answered as his claw drew across his palm, “untainted. No more and no less.” As soon as he said those words, they felt themselves getting spun around and around at an incredible speed. Numerous voices from all around them calling their names – voices that they were familiar with, voices of strangers, voices of both male and female at varying ages, and in different emotions.

I would say so if my goal wasn't to make them think that I am weak and retarded. "Come, the kings wants to see that you're still alive. Keep your stupid head bowed," one says and they make their way out. Their witch hasn't arrived already, has it? No carriages entered the palace gates last night, that I am sure of. So there is hope that the angel kings aren't ready to kill me yet. I follow the servants, taking note of all the paths of the Palace. I imagine that the secret entrance must be an underground tunnel, with a doorway that can be easily accessed by officials of the palace at a time if crisis. I wonder which of the paths leads to it.

“I’m sorry, madam. I’m just a driver. But maybe you should visit and see some places that play huge significant value to the history of Capria.” “See? You’re not just a driver. Tell me about the King?” “Ahh. America has no monarch, yeah? The first king was King Kamrun—” “Who?” “King Kamrun of Braynburg?” “Oh, and the current King?” “He’s critically ill.” His people must love the King if he didn't rule like in that 15th-century monarchies. “I’m sorry to hear about that.” My chest felt hollow. “The Prince apparent is Prince Isodore, Duke of Burkhese. You should visit Burkhese. It’s a great place, surrounded by the ocean. If you want to visit a little bit colder than Winterbourn, try Guardion.

The bishops are men with mitres on, and carrying croziers. The pawns are mostly the traditional shape, but the finials are elongated, and flame shaped. The Queen looks like Charlie, he could see that much from here, and the Kings looked like the pictures he’d seen of Ben. Jessie is delighted though, and runs for Eliza, hugging her tightly. Eliza holds her just as tightly back. Merlin looks confused, and leans in to Ash to whisper, “Why the tears?” Ash smirks and leans into him, “The Kings are her father, and the Queens are her mother.”

No more denying what they were meant to be. “Thank you, Okanga.” His voice was steady, confident. The priest rose to his feet, watching him closely. “The path of kings is never easy. But fate does not favor the weak. You must take what is yours.” “I understand.” Okanga gave him one last long look before stepping toward the door. “When the time comes, she will kneel before you as your queen. Make sure you are ready.” And with that, he disappeared, leaving behind the leather pouch, the vial, and the weight of an irreversible decision.