The Tyrant's Pet

The presence of the monstrous royal knights turned the tides, putting the rebels at a disadvantage. But when they fell back without a word, the rebels took advantage of this confusion to get an equal footing against their enemies. It didn't take long before the rebels got a hold of the upper hand.

With the fourth prince, Enrique, and the core members of the Valiente group taking the lead in the stead of Ismael and Roman, the flag of the royal family fluttering on top of the tallest tower on the imperial grounds was burned in the middle of the night for everyone to see.

That same night, the rebels' battle cry echoed across the country, proclaiming their victory and freedom.

But just like every war, gaining victory required sacrifices. Many had lost their lives fighting for what they believed, and with every passing hour, casualties had grown aplenty. It would take long before the empire could recover from all the damages caused by the uprising but with the unity of the new forces that consisted of the church, the Valiente Group, and the third prince's people, they managed to put an order within the imperial grounds and the capital after four days.

"About Joaquin..." a man leaning against the wall inside the third prince's chambers trailed off when Ismael's eyes fell on him.

Currently, Climaco, along with a few core members of the Valiente Group — most of them were noblemen that were ordered to be silenced at Joaquin's behest, but Roman faked their deaths and recruited them into the rebel group — gathered in the third prince's chambers. Ismael's injuries were fatal, thus refraining him from getting out of bed. They gather in his room temporarily until the third prince recovered.

"Don't worry about him." Ismael's voice was rasped, his throat dry as a desert. He was leaning against the headboard, his face was still swollen and his black eyes were evident.

"I'm not worried about him. We, the Valiente, needed reassurance that we didn't fall into one of his traps," another man — a middle-aged man — chimed in solemnly. "No offense, Your Highness. But all of us should've been dead long ago, if not for the seventh prince. And we're all aware of how cunning the crown prince is. Who knows if you and him connived secretly?"

"No offense taken, and I understand your concerns." Ismael winced, holding his side. "We worked together because we have a common enemy and I don't expect you to bow down to me now that the monarch had fallen. However, I cannot give Joaquin."

"Why?" another one voiced out in dismay. "The Seventh Prince hadn't even appeared since days ago and you were not telling us what happened to him! Did he die? If yes, why are you hiding his body?"

"You are making too many assumptions!" Climaco butted in, displeased at these people's attitude towards Ismael. Although Climaco wasn't a knight in the third prince's knighthood brigade, he respected the man. Climaco had witnessed the dreadful occurrence in the chapel. So he understood where Ismael was coming from.

Ismael breathed out deeply, glossing his eyes over the people inside the chambers. Since they prioritized putting back the order in the imperial palace and the capital, this was the first proper meeting they had to talk about things that were important. This was something the third prince expected from them, and there was no point in keeping everyone in the dark.

"You... remembered those royal knights," came out a solemn voice, inviting silence into the room which grew standstill immediately. "I bet you are all wondering how they were so strong."

"Most of you probably deemed them as merely skilled knights who undergone intense training, but that is not the case. Those knights were just like everyone else who trained, but even after decades of training, they wouldn't gain such superhuman strength," he continued in the same tone, pausing to let these men absorb his words properly. "Those royal knights who nearly killed us all had undergone experiments conducted secretly by the fifth prince."

"It might be hard to believe my words, but that had been Joaquin's card. The reason Joaquin was confident in luring the Valiente to the capital using our execution was that he knew he would have the last laugh. For a person like him, sacrificing hundreds of his men was too simple." Ismael drew a breath and exhaled it through his lips. "Vampires. Have you heard of them?"

"Vampires... those bloodsucking monsters in legends?" someone frowned with knitted brows.

"They're real." Ismael didn't beat around the bush and, just as he expected, some of them frowned. "Believe me or not, but those bloodsucking monsters aren't just part of a creative fable to tickle a person's imagination. Those creatures of the nights could walk under the sunlight, appeared just like humans, but had capabilities beyond an average human."

"Joaquin wanted to create that kind of empire," he added. "And those royal knights and the ministers... were the very proof you were looking for. You fought them, and no matter how much you deny this fact, you know deep in your bones they were not normal."

Another wave of silence descended on the room after Ismael's last remarks. It was ridiculous, but at the same time, it made sense. They fought the royal knights and even ministers who weren't originally proficient in swordsmanship. But during the battle, they were all equally strong.

Pleased that no one seemed to question his credibility, Ismael rocked his head.

"You were also aware that one of the biggest contributors to this success was the crown princess." He broke the ice, studying their reaction. When he was certain they weren't that surprised about it, he continued. "Right now, the crown princess is still recuperating from the injuries she inflicted by opening a way for our entry. She hadn't woken up."

"My point here is that Roman and Joaquin wouldn't return until she regain consciousness. And the reason for this is simple; the person backing up the crown princess will lose his mind waiting." His eyes glinted, giving everyone equal attention. "She is no longer the crown princess nor the empress of the Maganti Empire, but she... is now the Empress of the Haimirich Empire."

"What?"

"The Haimirich Empire can use her situation as an excuse to start a war since this can appear as the Maganti taking the Empress of another empire a hostage," he added, ignoring the apparent confusion in everyone's eyes. "You might not know about the Haimirich Empire or the Emperor of that land, but there's only one thing you need to remember about him."

Ismael swallowed, holding his hand together on top of his lap. "That man... can ruin our land overnight and without lifting a finger." He breathed out heavily once more, pleased that everyone was focusing.

"My wording might not fit the situation, but <strong>'fortunately,'</strong> that man only wants either of these things: the destruction of the Maganti Empire that ruined his wife, or Joaquin," Ismael stressed. "If you want Joaquin's head, then we do not need to prepare because no amount of preparation will save us, our family, and our land. But if you want peace in this land, we have to hand Joaquin over to them."

"I had already decided, but let's put it on a vote," he suggested, giving them all chances to decide and put this decision on a vote. "What are your decisions?"