#19. Mahanas
The Dalli flower was a special bloom that only grew near a small lake in Egelbamot.
Drinking tea brewed from the tiny, translucent red petals of the flower was his hobby. It was a high-class pursuit—one that was expensive and exclusive, making it truly a mark of elegance.
Of course, importing Dalli flowers regularly required a great deal of money, but Mahanas had no intention of lowering his dignity over a trivial matter like wealth.
He was Mebasa—one who had no need to give up anything. The royal family would soon be his. What could possibly be a problem?
Even his father, King Dares, understood him. While Mahanas did think his father was somewhat lacking in refinement, being a man driven solely by material greed, he was still a great Mebasa. There was a connection between them.
However, Reden was too small a country to support such noble blood, and Mahanas had always been displeased by that.
Why did his people not think to work harder and contribute more to the state? They were all so lazy.
What irritated him even more was that there were people who took their side.
“Your Highness, a famine has struck the land. You must lower the taxes.”
Just thinking of the head of the Rakmata household still left Mahanas in a foul mood. That woman spoke far too much. How dare she try to stand equal to royal authority just because her house was old and wealthy?
It was an act of incredible arrogance.
The Mebasa royal line, along with Sigrasil and Luntalis, was a family blessed by the gods. The fragments of divinity they held were the very proof of this.
Though these fragments had no practical use, they symbolized the chosen ones. The apostles blessed by the three gods.
Before mankind flourished, countless gods had existed. They were named after their unique traits.
Desire, Patience, and Hope—these three were the most powerful, for there was no place where they did not exist.
But the gods were as warlike as humans, and they split into two factions and fought endlessly. After countless wars, the gods eventually fell. The divine energy that overflowed during their battles proved fatal even to themselves.
In the end, most gods perished. Only Desire, Patience, and Hope remained.
Knowing that the extinction of gods would leave their followers lost, the three gods each left a piece of themselves to their apostles before vanishing.
Desire gave Luntalis its blood.
Patience gave Mebasa its tears.
Hope gave Sigrasil its kiss.
Each divine fragment held meaning:
Desire, but do not shed blood.
Endure, but do not weep.
Wherever you are, never forget that hope is with you.
And so, Mahanas never endured for long—just as the gods had taught.
He punished Rakmata for daring to speak against the royal will. He killed their heir. Conveniently, the man had insolently stood in his way.
Haslen Rakmata, proud to be betrothed to the princess, had shown arrogance that pierced the heavens.
His sister belonged to the royal family and was therefore rightfully his. All women of the royal family were its property. Yet that man had the gall to interfere with his discipline.
Such impudence deserved to be repaid with a severed head.
After losing her child, Deos Rakmata warned him that he would one day pay for his actions.
Still, Mahanas made her pay for her insolent tongue, too. He displayed Haslen Rakmata‘s head and had people throw stones at it.
He had never once regretted that act. The Rakmatas, already declining, had long been a thorn in his side.
When they were wealthy, he had considered elevating them to royal status for their riches, but now, they no longer deserved anything from the royal family.
And his judgment had been right.
After losing their successor, the Rakmatas left Reden, and his sister received a better marriage proposal.
“Has the Princess of Reden married?”
When he met the new Prince-King of Aglante at a long-awaited summit, Mahanas instantly recognized the question as an opportunity.
His sister, a rightful heir of Mebasa blood, possessed a strikingly beautiful face, just as expected of someone from the royal family.
It mattered little that the new Prince-King had claimed the throne through rebellion and was not the biological child of the previous queen. After all, he bore the Eyes of Sigrasil, and the dead had no voice.
Even the imperial house of Luntalis, close allies of the former prince-king, had acknowledged him. Aligning with this new king brought nothing but gain.
Mahanas told the young king that his sister was unmarried and seeking a suitor worthy of her status.
The youthful ruler seemed to understand perfectly. Before long, he formally proposed to the Princess of Reden.
It was fortuitous timing. A large sum of money would soon be needed.
Mahanas clearly explained to the young king—nearly ten years his junior—that such a beautiful, young, and pure-blooded woman was a rare treasure. He emphasized how valuable a royal asset his sister truly was.
The Prince-King quickly grasped that a woman of such worth came with a high price.
He did not bargain over the bride price. He paid everything as demanded. When chests of gold and jewels were stacked in the palace hall, Mahanas felt vindicated.
And that was only half. The rest was to be paid after the wedding.
Everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly—
Until his foolish sister caused trouble.
She had acted strangely since her fiancé’s death, but after being locked in her room, she’d quieted down, and Mahanas assumed she would return to her former, obedient self.
Who could have predicted she would cause a scene on the day the Prince-King arrived?
The king, witnessing what she had done, appeared deeply disappointed. He attempted to leave without even greeting the king.
Since the marriage could not be called off now, Mahanas rushed to stop him.
Fortunately, fate was on his side.
“I was hasty. Let us continue our discussion back at my palace.”
Mahanas led the Prince-King to the reception room.
There, he had to read the mood of a man ten years his junior. While swallowing his pride, he felt anger toward his sister—for making him endure such indignity. She seemed utterly unaware of her purpose for existing.
Even if the marriage went through, the conditions would surely be worse than before. Just thinking about it made his head boil.
He resolved to discipline her properly once the king departed. Ever since her fiancé’s death, she’d been spoiled far too much.
As he sat across from the Prince-King, thinking of how he would reassert the hierarchy, the young man spoke.
“I will pay the remaining bride price tomorrow.”
Mahanas was momentarily confused by the unexpected words. The man continued:
“In return, I will take the bride with me when I return.”
Then the elegant young king leaned back and looked up.
“What do you think?”
Mahanas studied the young man—his hair stark against the white leather chair. The king was far colder now than the last time they met.
Then again, what man wouldn’t be, after witnessing such behavior from his bride?
Mahanas hesitated for a moment.
Originally, Ophelia was supposed to cross the border two months later. In the meantime, Mahanas had planned to extract more favors from the king beyond the bride price.
But if he sent Ophelia now, the Prince-King might stop entertaining any further requests.
Still, that was a trivial concern compared to the risk of the marriage falling through.
He made his decision.
“If you pay the full price in advance, I see no issue.”
The young man smiled faintly, as if he had expected this answer all along.
“Then I’ll take that as your consent.”
As the king stood, clearly done with their meeting, Mahanas suddenly felt a twinge of curiosity.
He already knew Ophelia had gone mad enough to destroy her room. He’d even heard she had argued with the Prince-King inside.
And yet, the king was behaving as though nothing had happened—or worse, as though his interest in her had grown.
It was illogical.
That contradiction stirred what little curiosity Mahanas had left. He cautiously asked, not to offend:
“If I may ask… why are you so… fond of Ophelia?”
The young man, already standing at the doorway, turned back. His eyes, cold as metal, swept over Mahanas.
There was not a shred of goodwill in them.
Then, in a voice as cold as ice, the king replied:
“Even if I told you, would you understand?”
Before Mahanas could fully register the scorn in those words, the door closed with a firm thud.
