They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System-Chapter 388: Never Recovering From This

Now downgraded to "fancy origami paper", apparently.

Not to mention...

His mother’s gift. The Queen. Queen Chioma. The woman who raised him with royal grace, whose gift likely involved historic heirlooms, ancestral blessings, and 10 generations of symbolism and hope.

And none of that beat...

A used, hand embroidered handkerchief.

Probably scented with lavender... and anxiety.

@RoyalBudgeter: Someone tell Queen Chioma her crown’s value just got dethroned by aromatherapy cloth.

@Embroidery4Life: Embroidery classes in 3...2...1... Everyone GO!

@LemonadeStandKing: On his birthday I’m gifting him my old shoelace. Apparently that’s peak emotional currency.

Meanwhile, someone in the audience whispered, "At this point, my cousin’s macaroni art could’ve made it to the top three..."

Another added, "Bro, I burned through five credit cards for those Crown Drops. My cat doesn’t even recognize me anymore. And all he wanted was nostalgic fabric?!"

The guests, from nobles to influencers, foreign dignitaries to petty kingdom cousins, sat stewing in a collective broth of disbelief, envy, and existential dread.

Some were whispering. Others were wailing silently into their champagne flutes. One royal fainted, but politely. Another just muttered, "I should’ve embroidered my tax returns."

Nnenna, standing amidst the social fallout, could feel their resentment. It was like heat from an overcooked oven, faintly crispy and absolutely judgmental.

But what could she do? Shrug? Apologize for accidentally triggering national chaos with a scented napkin?

Meanwhile, Somto was in his own world.

Unbothered.

Unmoved.

Unreachable.

He stepped forward with that soft, almost cinematic grace, gently picking the handkerchief from the plush pillow atop the royal parcel stand, as if retrieving a sacred scroll from the heavens.

The other gifts? Still stacked on the ceremonial table where they were neatly and now bitterly arranged by top tier servants.

Gold, gemstones, priceless documents, ceremonial swords, a literal mini lion wearing a jeweled collar, left behind like party favors at a toddler’s birthday bash.

But this gift? Oh no. Not this one.

Somto held it like it was forged by destiny and lavender.

Then, in front of the entire hall, and to the horror of every gem hoarding royal and estate gifting duke, he carefully folded the handkerchief... and slipped it into his breast pocket.

Direct chest access. That was now Scented Square Headquarters.

He straightened his jacket, smoothed the fabric like a man closing a sacred deal, and gave the pocket a gentle tap. The pressure of the cloth against his heart made him feel like Nnenna herself had whispered "You got this" straight into his ribs.

Also, it smelled like her. Like comfort, wildflowers, and what heartbreak probably fears at night.

The crowd gasped.

@DisrespectedAndDistressed: BRO HE TUCKED IT IN HIS HEART ZONE WHAT IS THIS DISNEY PRINCE ENERGY?!?

@BurnTheTable: Put the diamond tiger egg in your pocket then, coward!!!

A few guests started plotting his downfall in their heads.

"This man deserves a medieval wedgie," hissed Duke Tinrin through gritted teeth.

"He ignored a twelve ton tech drone that reads your dreams, but pockets a glorified napkin?!" shrieked the Tazoun ambassador.

King Rovek looked ready to throw hands, scrolls, or both. "Where’s my army?" he whispered.

But none of them made a move.

Because deep down, they were all just glorified royal mice... and Somto? Somto was the cat. No, he was a lion! Everyone was angry but no one could stand up to the lion.

He wasn’t just any lion. He was the lion with a scented, embroidered emotional nuke tucked into his chest like it was Excalibur folded by grandma.

So they smiled.

Grimacing, twitching, soul crumbling smiles.

"Oh wow."

"How... tender."

"I, too, love... fragile fabric."

Internally: We’re never recovering from this.

Somto finally looked up. His sharp eyes scanned the room, immediately catching the fake calm plastered on every face like it was a bad Instagram filter. "What? What’s going on?" he asked, genuinely puzzled, his tone making everyone freeze mid breath.

The guests exchanged quick, awkward glances. Queen Chioma cleared her throat, muttered, "Nothing, Your Majesty. Absolutely nothing." though she was seething internally. Obinna nodded so hard it looked like his neck might snap.

Ebere gave a forced smile that screamed I’m totally not plotting anything. Even Chidera’s wide eyed stare was more like "Please don’t look at me, I’m just here for the snacks."

Nnenna was standing there with her mouth slightly open, stunned that Somto could see right through their poker faces.

She locked eyes with him, desperate for answers, but all he did was give her a sly, grateful smile. "Thank you, Princess Nnenna," he said smoothly, deliberately skipping "second sister" like it was yesterday’s bad fashion.

Nnenna blinked, her brain scrambling to process what just happened. "Uhm yeah, I’m glad you like it," she whispered to herself, then gave a tiny, almost embarrassed nod.

Before anyone could react, she slipped away, ducking behind a massive velvet curtain, hoping the crowd would forget her little "handkerchief incident" and maybe focus on the royal buffet instead.

Meanwhile, the guests plastered on their best "I’m totally not offended" faces, which looked suspiciously like someone trying to smile with a mouth full of lemons.

No one dared say a word, after all, challenging this king meant risking a swift and very public royal roast. So, for now, they settled on quietly seething while trying not to spill their drinks.

And somewhere in the back, White Night muttered, "I should have just gifted him a sock with glitter..."

Outside the castle, just as if the universe itself was trying to redirect everyone’s attention before the crowd inside combusted into passive aggressive tears, a sudden BOOM shattered the tense air.

Fireworks erupted, glorious, thunderous, shimmering explosions of light, shooting up into the sky over not just the royal castle but across every major district in Lionara.

People walking home with bags of groceries froze mid step.

"IS IT WAR?!" someone screamed from a fruit stall.

"No, no! It’s the new king’s fireworks!" a shopkeeper yelled, clutching his chest like he had just avoided cardiac arrest.

This chapter is updat𝓮d by fre(e)webnov(l).com