"Your Majesty, are you ready?"
Roy spoke up at that moment. Truthfully, even as he asked, he already had an answer in his heart.
Everything had happened far too suddenly—Jarvan III's son from eighteen years ago had appeared out of nowhere.
Before today, he had never even imagined such a situation, yet it had undeniably happened.
As one of those who had opposed Jarvan III and Melli's marriage back then, Roy had never believed he was wrong.
In the eyes of the people, Jarvan III was a myth made flesh. If that was the case, then there should be no blemish—no stain—upon him at all.
He simply hadn't expected what would come afterward.
Now, the same situation had appeared again. And Roy knew very clearly that this time, he couldn't stop it.
"Yes." Jarvan III had recovered a bit of strength, his gaze firm with resolve. "I know what happened back then can never be made right… but this time, I won't run from it again. I will let every Demacian know her."
Luke's appearance forced Jarvan III to see the coward he used to be all over again. If, back then, he had been just a little braver—if he had ignored everyone's opposition and openly acknowledged Melli's identity—
Would the ending have been different?
Jarvan III didn't know.
But the man standing here today was no longer who he had been then.
This time, he wouldn't evade it again—even if everyone still opposed him.
"As your subject, I have to say this much," Roy said slowly, his eyes drifting toward Luke. "I won't advise Your Majesty to reconsider."
Then his tone tightened.
"But before that… it would be best to confirm his identity."
When everyone was a little lost and unsteady, he had to stay clear-headed.
Yes, Luke had brought the necklace. Yes, he had told Melli's story. But none of that alone could prove Luke was truly Jarvan III's flesh and blood.
Luke understood immediately.
So they still had to verify him?
How?
A blood test?
"Come with me."
Jarvan III lifted his eyes to Roy, said nothing more, and left only those words before walking ahead at an unhurried pace.
He knew exactly what Roy was thinking—nothing more than a final struggle.
If Luke were an impostor, then what happened today would never leave this room.
But how could Jarvan III not know?
Luke couldn't possibly be an impostor. The shape of his brows and eyes—he resembled Melli far too much.
So much so that, at first glance, Jarvan III had been struck dumb.
Luke steadied himself and followed behind. There was no doubt—the next step was going to be proving who he was.
To be honest, he was a little uncertain too.
What if Melli had picked him up somewhere?
They walked for about ten minutes. No one said a single word along the way.
Jarvan III led them into a hall. A statue stood at the entrance—different from the ones Luke had seen on the way here. Most of those had been knight statues.
But here, at this doorway, stood a statue of a nun.
If he remembered right, Demacians worshiped the Goddess of Light. She was the faith in people's hearts. Since the founding of the nation, the Order of the Goddess of Light had risen and fallen alongside the kingdom.
And equally renowned was another divine figure—the Winged Protector, representing justice and fairness, the living embodiment of Demacia's laws.
To Demacians, neither stood above the other. Both could give them hope.
Judging from the nun statue's robes, she was likely a follower of the Goddess of Light.
They entered the hall. The light inside was soft and warm. In the center stood another statue—a goddess in sacred vestments, eyes closed, cradling a perfectly round orb in her hands.
And that orb… was real.
"When the Order of Light was first established," Jarvan III explained as he stood before the statue, "the first Lightbringer, to ensure the purity of the royal bloodline, gifted Demacia's founding king an Orb of Light. This orb is bound to his bloodline. Only those who carry royal blood can awaken its dazzling radiance."
As he spoke, he slowly placed his hand on the orb.
The instant his palm touched it, the orb began to give off a gentle glow.
Then the light grew brighter—so bright it seemed to blend with the sunlight throughout the entire hall.
Jarvan III withdrew his hand. The radiance faded, and the orb returned to normal.
"Child. Place your hand on it."
Then he looked at Luke.
Luke stepped forward two paces. Under everyone's gaze, he raised his hand and placed it on the orb, his heartbeat speeding up despite himself.
But soon—just like with Jarvan III—the orb began to shine, exactly the same as before.
Luke quietly let out a breath of relief.
If it had proven him fake, that would've been beyond awkward.
Seeing that, everyone finally had certainty.
Luke was truly of royal blood.
Jarvan III looked at Roy. "Now. Are you satisfied?"
"Since that is the case, this old man is naturally willing to acknowledge Your Highness's status as prince." Roy brought his hands together and bowed to Luke in the manner of a subject.
Lev followed immediately after.
Then Tianna Crownguard, then Calvin—
Even Lux performed a proper bow to Luke.
His identity was beyond question now. As true royal blood—Jarvan III's flesh and blood—he was more than worthy of that salute.
"With that settled, the royal bloodline truly should not be left outside," Roy said. "And the people deserve an explanation."
He didn't say anything else, already thinking about what came next.
As a loyal supporter of the crown, even he believed royal blood should never be wandering in the world.
Since Luke was truly a prince, then his identity should be known by the public—just as Jarvan IV's was.
At that moment, Lux secretly put her hand on the orb too.
Nothing happened, no matter how long she waited. Only then did she suddenly realize—
The person she'd bumped into on the street today, by pure chance, was actually the king's son—the one he'd never met.
That was… almost too unbelievable.
Jarvan III looked at Luke, his gaze complicated.
Between them, they were the closest of strangers.
They shared the thickest bond of blood, yet in eighteen years, they had never met.
He didn't even have the courage to make this child call him Father.
Everyone present noticed the complexity in Jarvan III's eyes. They understood the pain in his heart.
At this point… with the atmosphere like this, that word was unavoidable.
Luke knew it was on him to break the deadlock. He hesitated for a long moment, met Jarvan III's eyes, and finally spoke, slowly and clearly:
"Father."
"These years… you've suffered!"
The wrinkles at Jarvan III's eyes were wet. He pulled Luke into a tight embrace. "From this day forward, you won't be alone in this world. I will be your steadfast support."
Even Luke—with his usually shameless, playful mindset—went quiet in that moment.
Because he could feel it.
The emotion in the man's chest was real, without the slightest hint of falsehood.
Maybe… facing this bond with nothing but a joking attitude had been wrong.
No matter what—
In this life, the man before him was his family.