Chapter 46: Of Fathers, Food, and Flaming Fans
It started at breakfast.
Prince Kimo walked into the royal dining hall like a noble hawk—graceful, silent, intimidating. His long black hair, freshly combed, swayed behind him like a storm cloud with manners.
The king looked up from his roasted pheasant. "Ah! Son! Join me!"
Prince Kimo blinked. "You called me 'son'?"
"Yes." The king cleared his throat. "I'm trying out... affection."
The room went quiet. Even the fruit trembled.
Prince Kimo sat down slowly. "Are you okay, Father?"
"Never better." The king smiled. "In fact, I was thinking we could spend more time together. Like normal fathers and sons."
There was a beat of silence.
"Doing what?" Kimo asked suspiciously.
"Fishing!"
"I hate fish."
"Hunting?"
"I like deer. I don't like killing them."
"Then... uh... chess?"
"I always win."
The king chuckled awkwardly. "Yes. You do."
Prince Kimo leaned forward. "Let's start small. Like... you telling me why you named the royal horse Buttercup."
"I was eight!" the king groaned.
At that exact moment, Queen Seraphina entered the hall in her usual regal sweep, head held high, surrounded by fluttering maids and the scent of roses and subtle menace.
Prince Kimo watched her. Then, with the straightest face in the kingdom, he stood up and bowed dramatically.
"Ah, the queen of everything... except her husband's secrets."
The table went silent.
The queen paused mid-step.
The king choked on a grape.
"Excuse me?" she asked sweetly. Dangerously.
"I said," Kimo continued, "it's always a pleasure to witness such a well-preserved monarch in the morning. How do you manage to stay youthful despite all the stress of—what do the people say?—power struggles?"
A maid dropped a tray.
The queen's fan snapped open like a weapon.
"I see someone has gained confidence... and lost his survival instinct," she said coolly, eyes locked with her stepson's.
Prince Kimo grinned and sipped his tea.
"I'm just bonding, Your Majesty. You know—affection, humor, sarcasm... truth."
"Remind me to ban him from breakfast," she muttered to her head maid.
The king was laughing into his napkin. "I like this new version of you, son."
"I'm just warming up," Kimo said, eyes twinkling. "Next time I'll write a poem about your second wedding."
"Kimo!" the king gasped, snorting his drink.
Outside the hall, Oki leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold.
She shook her head with a smile.
"By the time I'm done with him," she whispered, "this whole palace won't know what hit them."
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To be continued....