Chapter 82
Lucas moved slowly through the Queen's garden, his feet finding a steady rhythm along the stone path.
His body had healed well from his recent trials—the aches had faded, and physically he felt almost normal again.
But as he walked among the carefully arranged flowers and trimmed hedges, he recognized that something deeper had shifted inside him.
The effects on his soul and spirit were far more significant than any physical injury could ever be.
He paused beside a small fountain, watching the water catch the afternoon light, and considered what he had learned about himself during his time in this kingdom.
There was something he had discovered that troubled him, though he couldn't quite name why. His spirit and his life force—two things he had always assumed were the same—were actually separate.
They were linked, yes, connected in ways he was only beginning to understand, but they were not identical.
The realization had come to him slowly, like morning mist burning away to reveal a landscape he had never noticed before.
There were differences between them that he hadn't yet uncovered, differences that might matter greatly in the days ahead.
And yet, despite the strangeness of this discovery, there was something familiar about it too.
Like an old memory trying to surface, or a scent that reminds you of a place you can't quite recall.
It was this sense of familiarity that had made him rush to believe it was simply his life force he was feeling.
But now, walking through this peaceful garden, he understood it was something more.
He made his way to the small open house at the garden's center—a delicate structure of white pillars and a curved roof that offered shade without blocking the gentle breeze. Lucas sat down on one of the cushioned benches and let his eyes wander over the scene before him. Flowers of colors he had never seen before swayed gently. Butterflies moved between them with purpose and grace. In the distance, he could see the palace walls rising, but from here they seemed less like barriers and more like protection.
The sound of soft footsteps brought his attention back. Elizabeth approached carrying a tray with a teapot and two cups. She moved with the natural grace of someone raised in royalty, but there was something genuine in the way she set the tray down on the low table between them.
"My mother will see you in a short time," Elizabeth said as she arranged the cups. "In the meantime, would you like to get to know each other better?" She smiled as she asked the question, and Lucas found himself smiling back without having to think about it.
"Why not," he replied, reaching for the cup of tea she offered him. The warmth felt good in his hands. He took a moment to appreciate the aroma before asking, "What is it like being a princess who will become the next Queen?"
Elizabeth's smile shifted slightly—not fading, but becoming something more thoughtful. She settled into the seat across from him, wrapping her own hands around her cup.
"Hmm, boring really," she said after a moment. "I spend my time with the ministers and nobles, listening to them talk about how they can keep commoners from becoming nobles. They discuss ways to make sure that those who do manage to rise will stand on their side in the end."
She paused to sip her tea, and Lucas waited. There was something in her voice that suggested she had thought about this many times before.
"Which mostly happens, you know," she continued. "Everyone who reaches a certain level of power and authority will eventually think of themselves first. Because they worked for what they got. Even if some luck was involved, they still achieved their position through hard work and smart decisions. They would never throw that away for people who could change their fate but simply don't have the will power, the mental strength, or the physical determination to do it. People accept their weakness and then call that acceptance a strength. But in truth, it's a lie we created to always keep the power, the authority, and the money for ourselves."
Lucas nodded slowly, considering her words. "You think that's bad," he said. It wasn't really a question.
Elizabeth nodded too, and this time her smile disappeared completely. "Yes. We are suppressing people from reaching their full potential. So why isn't that bad? Why should the commoners suffer so much while we nobles and the rich enjoy our lives like there is no tomorrow? Because when you reach a certain stage, you start to understand that money isn't everything."
Lucas opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a laugh interrupted them. It was a beautiful sound—a warm, genuine chuckle that seemed to brighten the air around them. A woman appeared from the garden path, walking toward the open house with easy confidence. She looked to be in her thirties, though Lucas knew she must be older. She wore a dress similar to Elizabeth's, and she shared her daughter's long pink hair and matching eyes. But where Elizabeth still had the softness of youth, this woman possessed a mature beauty that was striking in its completeness. Her figure was extremely alluring, curved in all the right places in a way that seemed almost unfair.
Lucas had been raising his cup for another sip of tea when she appeared, and for a moment he simply forgot to drink. The woman chuckled again at his reaction and settled herself beside her daughter.
"Don't listen to her," the Queen said, her voice warm but carrying an undercurrent of authority that needed no announcement. "She is too green. She grew up with everything, so she won't understand. She lets her emotions control her."
"I am the same age as her," Lucas replied, his voice calm despite the presence of royalty before him. "Why would you assume that I wouldn't think the same way?"
The Queen studied him for a moment, her eyes moving across his face with the practiced assessment of someone used to reading people quickly and accurately.
"Your eyes," she said simply. "And also, anyone who has reached your level of power is never someone who is green."
Lucas allowed himself a small smile. "A cunning Queen who cares for her people. That's the image people would have, isn't it? It gave you more power as the Queen focused more on protecting them than on sealing the demon which is after her life."
The Queen's expression flickered, just slightly, but she remained silent.
"But the truth is—" Lucas began.
"Let us not talk about that," she interrupted quickly, her voice firm but not unkind.
Lucas nodded, accepting the boundary she had drawn. Beside her, Elizabeth looked between them with frustration clear on her face.
"I am not green," Elizabeth insisted. "I am just saying the truth."
The Queen sighed, but before she could respond, Lucas spoke. "You are right," he said to Elizabeth. "Totally right. But being right doesn't make your choice the correct one."
Elizabeth frowned. "What do you mean?"
Lucas set his cup down and leaned back slightly, gathering his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet but clear.
"I grew up with people looking down on me and pushing me down. But I wasn't suppressed by the higher ups or by others who were stronger than me. I was suppressed by the very people I held dear. To others, it might have seemed kind—hearing them say things like, 'It's okay, just do enough,' or 'Being happy is all that matters.' They would say it in a manner that made you think they cared for you. But it was those words which brought more suffering, more depression, and more sadness into my life than anything else."
The Queen had grown still beside her daughter, her eyes fixed on Lucas with an attention that felt almost physical. Elizabeth too seemed caught by his words, her earlier frustration giving way to something more like curiosity.
"What happened next?" the Queen asked softly.
Lucas picked up his tea again, more for something to do with his hands than because he wanted to drink. "I almost died, I lost everything, And then I lost even more. Only when I chose to accept that being ordinary was never enough did things begin to change. There is never enough of anything, you see. Not enough time, not enough money, not enough heights, not enough power, not enough authority. There is never enough. But you also need to take time to appreciate what you have and be grateful for it, even as you push forward for more."
He paused, looking directly at Elizabeth. "It wasn't the higher ups or the people I held dear who were pushing me down. It was myself, for listening to them and accepting what they said and did. So I took a step of my own and moved in a direction that could have caused my death. And now I am one of the strongest people of my generation. Soon, I will be the strongest."
Elizabeth sat quietly for a long moment, processing his words. Finally she asked, "What are you trying to say?"
Lucas sighed, the sound carrying the weight of hard-won understanding. "People who have power, money, and authority don't see commoners or anyone not in a standing of power as worthy of their time. The reason nobles engage in suppression isn't because the lives of commoners lack worth. It's because of those unique individuals who will rise to reach their level—as nobles or even as royalty. Those are the ones they fear. The reason is simple: those rising individuals are driven, much more driven than the nobles will ever be."
He leaned forward slightly, wanting her to understand. "So they fear losing their power. That's why they create these systems of suppression. And for the abnormal ones—those rare individuals who cannot be stopped no matter what—they can do nothing anyway."
Elizabeth opened her mouth, but Lucas continued before she could speak.
"So, Princess, you are correct. But it isn't the common people or your mother who are suppressing them. They suppress themselves by accepting their weakness and calling that acceptance strength. In truth, all of that would disappear in the face of poverty, authority, and powerlessness. And yet they still live the same way and say they are doing something."
Elizabeth closed her mouth, her brow furrowed in thought.
Lucas picked up his tea and took a long sip before adding softly, "The great ones will become even greater. And the lesser ones will become even lesser."
The Queen watched him with new respect in her eyes. Elizabeth stared into her cup, her earlier certainty shaken but something else growing in its place—something like understanding beginning to take root. Around them, the garden continued its peaceful existence, unaware of the weight of words being exchanged in the small open house at its center.