That night, Mother and I stayed alone in the dining room at my request. Ingrid and Alda left after finishing their meal, because they knew I wanted a private meeting with my mother.

  “You’ve already been told the details of what happened, right?”

  “Yes, my son. Lady Nora told me what happened. But we’re not here to discuss what I already know, are we?”

  “Right, Mom. I want to tell you my conclusions about leadership—and the kind of leader I want to be. But first, I want you to answer something… What kind of leadership did you use? I have an idea, so don’t be afraid to confess it.”

  Mother smiled with a hint of regret. Then she sighed and ran her fingers through my hair.

  “I’m a widow, Ulric. What I did was appeal to other nobles’ instinct to protect—and above all, make them feel sorry for me.” Girasol didn’t sound happy; there was shame in her words. “But I didn’t have much of a choice. My power was weakening, and if I tried to use force, no one would have taken me seriously.”

  “But I always see you dignified and solemn, Mom.”

  “That’s because you didn’t see me right after your father died. You were too young to remember, but back then I used emotional manipulation—methods that weren’t exactly ‘proper.’ Luckily for me, most of the powerful nobles were men at the time, and men love feeling superior. For them, protecting a beautiful woman like me was an enormous ego boost—made them feel like heroes. Put yourself in their shoes: a damsel in distress asks gallant knights for help. Who in their right mind would reject a chance to aid a lady that influential?”

  “That makes sense. Even I would offer to protect you. We men are egocentric creatures.”

  My comment made Mother smile. Saying something like that with my childish face must have been amusing.

  “I abused their goodwill. That’s why, when my opponents tried to remove me, I was supported by many powerful nobles. Fun fact, my son: Duchess Sabrina was the one who objected the most to keeping me as regent. You can’t appeal to a woman’s mercy when you’re a woman too—that’s the lesson I taught Ingrid and Yuka.”

  “W-Women are terrifying,” I muttered, remembering Yuka’s cold expressions in our first encounters.

  “Yes, they are. That’s why it’s important for you to have a good woman at your side. I’m already taking care of that—don’t worry.” Mother winked at me in a way that made my skin crawl a little. I knew what she meant, but I let it go. “Anyway, Ulric, my tactic won’t work for you because our goals are different. I was trying to stabilize power and preserve it for you. Your goals will be different, won’t they?”

  “Yes… Independence.”

  I said what I’d been wanting to say all along. After all, all this training and preparation had one purpose: freeing my people from this damned yoke.

  “That’s right. For now, I’ve kept an eye on the dukes and taken measures to prevent looting. We can’t afford another visit from Vlad II—we saw what happened last time.”

  That bitter memory rose in my mind again. I would never forget that disastrous day when Sora’s life was silenced forever. My resentment toward Manius and Vlad would never disappear.

  “The truth is, the people hate the Kingdom of Apollo as much as we do.”

  “Yes, my son. But as you’ve noticed in your classes with Sir Einar, maintaining an army isn’t easy. You need to master numbers and train efficiently. Our soldiers are peasants, artisans, and merchants—not warriors.” Girasol reminded me of the miserable situation we lived in. Even though every village and city had mandatory military service, their level was barely enough for public order.

  They could handle ruffians, thugs, and drunks. But fighting mercenaries or professional soldiers was out of the question. And Apollo’s heavy cavalry? Forget it.

  “We have knights too. If we use our heavy cavalry properly, maybe we’ll have a chance.”

  “Maybe you’re right. But will you risk thousands of lives just to test your theory?”

  Her question shut me up.

  She was right.

  It wasn’t the same to throw out calculations on paper as it was to put thousands of men on a battlefield and apply my knowledge without room for error.

  “I’ll think of something. I promise.”

  “Good. Now back to leadership. Tell me what you concluded after this difficult exercise.” Girasol patted my head again, and like a good son, I let her.

  “I learned exactly what you said—that I can’t always be kind to people. Some solutions require toughness and a firm hand. In the end, everything worked out. Thanks to the duel, Ronaldo Black Vase was able to grow as a person and overcome his fears and insecurities. The method didn’t feel right to me, but it was effective—and I probably couldn’t have done it any other way.”

  I paused to breathe. Mother kept stroking my hair and smiled again.

  “Go on.”

  “But I didn’t do it alone. Alda helped him train. Ingrid and Yuka gave Ronaldo Black Vase theoretical advice. And Lady Nora served as moral support—she raised his self-esteem. It was a group effort, and I’m grateful to all of them for their help.”

  After I said that, Girasol stood and wrapped me in her arms.

  Ah… I loved her hugs. Having a loving mother was the best thing in the world.

  “That’s it—you’ve got it! You’ve discovered the key to leadership, my dear son.” She pulled back and sat again. “A leader isn’t someone who gives orders, but someone who receives help simply by asking. Think about it: what happens if none of the dukes choose to help you? Or if no one answers your call for a conference?”

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  “My legitimacy would be at stake…”

  “Correct. Making people choose to follow you willingly—without you having to command them—that’s what separates leaders from dictators. If people want to support you from the bottom of their hearts, then you can call yourself a leader worthy of their trust.”

  Her words were new to me—almost like a divine revelation.

  Right…

  Alda and Ingrid helped me because I asked. They didn’t demand reasons. They understood my intentions were good, and even though this task made them uncomfortable, they trusted me.

  And not just them…

  Sir Marte Hogan, Lady Nora, Gonzalo, Sir Einar.

  My court, the guards, Aura and the maids.

  From courtiers to stablehands.

  “I understand. I have to make people follow me because they trust me—not just my skills, but the person I’m trying to become. Everything is clearer now… Thank you, Mom.”

  “There’s still a lot of work to do. We can’t fall asleep on our laurels!”

  “And that’s exactly what I wanted to talk about too.”

  “I’m listening.” Girasol softened her smile and gave me the floor.

  “I have an idea to make the dukes respect me—or at least take me seriously before my coronation. It’s something I’ve thought through carefully with Sir Marte and Ingrid.” I paused and then flashed a defiant smile you rarely saw on me. “I plan to celebrate my sixteenth birthday with a grand tournament, where all the dukes will attend for the official ceremony. By law, they’ll be forced to come.”

  “And then?”

  “I plan to enter the open combat tournament as an anonymous fighter—without having been knighted yet. Once there, I’ll put on a great performance and reveal my face in front of everyone to earn glory. I won’t joust, because only knights of the highest honor can compete in a royal event sponsored by the crown—and my knighting must be public, not private.”

  Mother considered my words. She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t look displeased either. She simply analyzed my plan and spoke after a few seconds.

  “How do you plan to draw nobles to the tournament? Open combat is usually just an appetizer for the jousts—the main event. At most, lords will watch to select men-at-arms and wandering knights. I doubt a count, baron, or duke will attend a spectacle meant for peasants.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  High society usually didn’t attend those violent, “uncivilized” competitions.

  But I’d already prepared for that.

  “I’ll have Sir Einar and Sir Marte Hogan participate in the tournament.”

  That made Mother let out a small, amused laugh. Not cruel—just the absurdity of me facing the two strongest warriors in the kingdom.

  “Seriously? I think you’re overestimating your abilities. Even though there are five and a half years until that tournament, you won’t surpass either of them. I love you, and I don’t want your illusions shattered.”

  “And who said anything about winning?” I smiled again. “I’ve seen Sir Marte’s strength with my own eyes, and Sir Einar is no less. They’re formidable fighters, and their ‘invincible’ reputations can work in my favor. If I can fight them on equal footing, even for a moment, the nobles will acknowledge my strength.”

  I didn’t need to beat them. That was impossible.

  They had fought real battles and courted death more than once.

  Even with exhaustive training, my chances were almost nonexistent.

  “Fine. Let’s assume having the two best blades in the kingdom attracts noble attention. How will you make sure they see you fight before that stage? They might not even be present for the preliminaries—and when they finally watch your duel, they’ll take you for just another wandering fighter who got lucky.”

  “That’s where the magic comes in, Mom.” I went full shark-mind. For the first time, I was grateful for those damn entrepreneurship shows from my old life. “Over these five years, I’ll open a tavern whose specialty will be hamburgers. I’ll start by distributing them to commoners, but then I’ll create an exclusive version for nobles—more expensive, delicious, better ingredients, but the same basic recipe.”

  “Uh… seriously? You’re basing your plan on that? You really like hamburgers,” Mom murmured, as if an anime sweat drop slid down her head.

  I believed in the power of hamburgers. If I hadn’t become a politician, I might’ve worked as an advertiser for a major fast-food chain.

  Anyway, I continued.

  “My plan is to reduce the distance between nobles and commoners—show them both can love the same things without shame. We’ll be at war soon. If social classes don’t learn to tolerate each other, my generals will have a brutal headache. By serving two kinds of hamburgers completely free, the audience will want to watch the spectacle to keep eating. Don’t underestimate human stinginess.”

  I even imitated a TV host from my childhood: left hand on my chin, right hand on my waist. I looked ridiculous.

  Still, Mother sighed in resignation—and then smiled.

  “It sounds insane, but with you around, I don’t know what to expect anymore. In any case, my son, let’s give our best so Sora’s death won’t have been in vain. We’ll free our people without drowning in revenge…”

  After that, we said goodnight, and I headed to my room.

  On the way, I remembered Manius’s disgusting face. I still had nightmares about that miserable fat bastard who killed Sora. I wanted to kill him with my own hands—cut his throat until his flesh was raw red and then throw it to the dogs. My hatred for him would never fade.

  Even so…

  I couldn’t let those feelings consume me. I promised Mother I would become a great king, not a vengeful man.

  Because I knew exactly how vengeance ends:

  With everyone you love dead.

  That truth was undeniable.

  Revenge pulls you into an endless spiral of death and tragedy.

  Vlad II, on the other hand, was my sworn enemy. I truly intended to put his head on a spike—not as revenge (though I wouldn’t mind), but to show my enemies the strength of the Kingdom of Etrica.

  Bah. That was still far away. Right now my troops weren’t a match for the mercenaries Apollo hired as their first line, and their local infantry was no joke either.

  My levies were peasants with basic training, not real soldiers.

  Sending them against the enemy now would be no different from murder.

  “Ulric?”

  Suddenly, my dark thoughts vanished at a familiar voice.

  “What is it, Ingrid?”

  The white-haired girl called to me halfway down the hallway. She wore the usual black dress she never seemed to take off. All her clothes were dark—she wanted to highlight the white hair everyone mocked when she first arrived.

  “I-it’s just… you had this scared look on your face. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine, Ingrid. Thank you for asking.” I sighed to avoid worrying her, but she stepped closer and shook her head.

  “Something’s bothering you, right? C-can you tell me? G-Girasol said I have to support you.”

  “Right. It’s a courtier’s duty to help the king. I guess Mom is educating you well.” I hesitated, then admitted it. “I was thinking about Vlad and his brother. Mom told me not to indulge revenge, but it’s hard to forget all the damage they did.”

  “O-oh… yeah. I don’t think you’ll ever forgive them. Not even I could.” Ingrid lowered her head sadly. Then she looked into my eyes. “But Girasol is right, Ulric. You’re a good person, and if you let hate drive you, you’ll make that scared face all the time. I-I really like you… you’re my best friend. And even though we’re engaged, you’ve never hurt me or forced me into anything. I-I wouldn’t want you to change for the worse, Ulric.”

  Ingrid’s clumsy words made me happy.

  Ah. I’d forgotten.

  She arrived here shy and afraid to speak.

  And now she stood in front of me, saying what I needed to hear—the same lesson Mom gave me: don’t chase revenge.

  “You’re right, Ingrid. Thank you for reminding me what I really have to do.” I patted her head like she was my little sister. She leaned into it and smiled innocently.

  “Of course, Ulric. That’s what friends are for. If you ever have problems, don’t hesitate to come to me. You’ll see—together we’ll carry the Kingdom of Etrica forward.”

  “We will, Ingrid. Good night.”

  Once again, the words of someone precious to me stopped my worst thoughts.

  Maybe Mom is right. Maybe Etrica’s salvation isn’t found in hate, but in the bonds we form with the people we cherish.

  With that thought, I went to sleep.