It took at least five hours before the King was finally drunk.

And not just slightly drunk either. It was the kind that crept in slowly, cup after cup, until it stopped being something you could hide. His movements had gotten looser over time, his posture less controlled, and whatever restraint he had at the beginning had long since disappeared somewhere between the drinks.

"You know..." he started, his voice dragging just a bit as he spoke, "I kinda hate your guts."

He let that sit there for a second, like he wanted it to land properly.

"But I have to admit, you’re a strong person," he continued, exhaling through his nose. "I’ve never seen a man like you before. Someone who can fight the way you do... it’s ridiculous. Even I doubt I could land a hit on you."

He gave a small, bitter laugh after that, like he didn’t enjoy admitting it.

"But at the same time," he went on, his tone shifting again, "I hate the fact that even though you have my daughter, you’re openly flirting with other women. Do you really think I could stomach that? The idea that my daughter belongs to a harem?"

His grip on the cup tightened slightly.

"I didn’t raise her to become one of many."

He was really drunk.

There was no point pretending otherwise. His words were starting to blur together at the edges, his tone uneven, and the way he carried himself now barely resembled the image of a king. If someone walked in right now without knowing who he was, they’d probably just assume he was some regular guy who drank too much and had too many things on his mind.

Honestly, he looked more like a stubborn, overly emotional dad than anything else.

As for me, I wasn’t drunk at all.

Not even close.

It didn’t make sense. I had been drinking with him the entire time, matching him more or less, but there was nothing. There was no dizziness, no heaviness, not even that slight buzz people usually get after a few drinks. It felt like my body just refused to process alcohol the way it was supposed to.

Thinking about it, I couldn’t even remember a time when I had actually been drunk before.

Which was... kind of disappointing.

People drank for a reason. To relax, to loosen up, to forget things for a while. Meanwhile, I was just sitting here completely sober, watching someone else go through all of that alone. It felt like missing out on something everyone else understood.

Still, not exactly a problem worth worrying about.

"You don’t really have a say in this, though," I said, keeping my tone calm, almost indifferent. "At the end of the day, they’re happy with it. They’re choosing to stay with me."

I leaned back slightly, meeting his gaze without any hesitation.

"I don’t think you get a say when Titania herself is enjoying it the most."

"You really piss me off," he muttered.

"But I’ve accepted it," he added after a short pause, his voice quieter this time. "I don’t think there’s any real chance of taking her away from you."

His fingers tapped lightly against the surface in front of him.

"And even if there was..." he continued, trailing off for a moment before finishing his thought, "I don’t think Titania would find the kind of happiness she has right now with any other man."

That part sounded genuine.

"I don’t think there’s anyone more capable than you," he said, almost reluctantly. "Which is why..." 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

He paused.

I didn’t interrupt him. There was no need. Whatever he was trying to say, he’d say it eventually. Cutting in now would just ruin whatever point he was trying to build up to.

Then he looked at me.

Really looked at me.

His eyes sharpened in a way that didn’t match how drunk he was. It was the kind of focus that made it clear he wanted me to pay attention, like this part actually mattered to him more than everything he had said before.

"Listen very closely," he said, his voice lower now. "I don’t think I’ll ever say this again. This is probably the only time you’ll hear it from me."

A small pause.

"So don’t miss it."

Then, slowly, he lowered his head.

"Please... take care of my daughter."

It didn’t sound forced.

It didn’t sound like something he said just because he felt like he had to.

It sounded real.

There was weight behind it. The kind that doesn’t come from obligation, but from something deeper. Looking at him like this, it was hard to believe this was the same man who had been openly saying he hated me just moments ago.

"And also," he continued, his voice roughening slightly, "I know I should be saying this while I’m sober..."

He let out a quiet breath, almost like he was annoyed at himself.

"But I don’t think my pride would ever allow that."

I glanced at him again, paying closer attention this time.

Something had changed.

"I want you to..." he started, hesitating for just a second, "take care of Bethlan too."

My eyes widened before I could stop myself.

"What?"

"You’re surprised?" he asked, letting out a small, dry chuckle. "Isn’t this basically what you want?"

That question lingered longer than it should have.

I didn’t answer right away.

Silence settled between us, stretching just enough to make it noticeable. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. It felt like he already knew more than he was letting on.

"Why are you saying that?" I asked finally. "I didn’t expect something like that from you. Especially when you clearly don’t like me."

"Believe me, I still don’t like you," he said without missing a beat. "Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever disliked anyone more than you."

At least he was honest about it.

"But you’re capable," he continued, his tone steady despite everything. "More than capable."

He shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting himself like he was trying to stay focused.

"I think you have what it takes to keep a kingdom going," he said. "Even one that’s already dying. Maybe even turn it into something better."

There was no exaggeration in his voice. There was no attempt to make it sound nicer than it was.

"I’ve been watching you this whole time," he added. "I’ve seen how you move and how you act. I still don’t fully understand how your mind works..."

A faint frown crossed his face.

"But I’m already sure you’re compatible with it."

"I don’t think that’s enough reason for you to just hand me the throne," I said.

"I’m not handing it to you outright," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "I’m saying you marry Titania. Enter the Bethlan royal family. Then become King."

He lifted his hand a little, gesturing vaguely.

"That’s how you get the throne."

It sounded simple when he said it like that.

"If you want to marry Princess Myrcella too, then go ahead," he added. "You can unite Milham and Bethlan that way."

I mean, sure.

That was an option.

A pretty big one, actually.

But something about this still didn’t sit right with me. It felt incomplete, like there was still a part of this he hadn’t explained yet.

"It seems like you still have questions," he said, catching on immediately. "Fine. I’ll tell you."

He took a breath.

For a moment, the room felt quieter than before. Even the small, idle noises seemed to fade into the background.

Then he said it.

"I’m dying."