"But Your Majesty! This is a declaration of war! To have Zarkon blatantly propose something as absurd as this match is ridiculous! I say we mount an assault immediately!" A fist pounded on a table and was echoed by several nods around the room.

King Alfor could only inwardly sigh as one of his counselors stood up to respond to the allegation of the other enraged counselor. As his counsel argued, all he could think about was the look on Shiro's face when Zarkon zeroed in on him. The grip the guard had on his bayard could have broke rock and mowed trees; it could have shattered glass.

"And if the Black Paladin loses, then that will just be even worse. I say we act now! We should-"

Alfor clasped his hands in front of him; the counselman speaking immediately sat down and the entire room looked at him as if he had all the answers in the galaxy residing in him. "Shiro will not lose."

There was a beat of silence before the third counselman on his left timidly said, "But if he does, should we not have precautions set in place?" Slight murmurs flitted down to his end of the table but he barely heard them because this could not stand.

"We have faith in the Black Paladin." He eyed the counselman and if he intentionally emphasized and used the royal we, nobody called him out on it. Nobody would dare.

With that note, he stood up and left, ignoring the bows and curtseys of his council. He had better things to focus on, after all.

Guards saluted him along the hallway as he finally stopped in front of his destination. He paused before he knocked on the door and was rewarded with a "Come in."

He entered and eyed the dry flower crowns that lined the wall; echoes of laughter rang in his ear before they're cut short by Shiro entering the room with a cleaning rag in his hand. He had clearly been polishing his armor by the look of the multitude pieces in the room.

"Your Majesty." Shiro dropped down onto one knee and he gestured for the boy to rise. Shiro stood in guard position and Alfor almost wanted to tell him not to because he could still see a younger Shiro's daring smile before a lifetime of duty stole it away.

He had come here to make sure Shiro knew what he had to do but what came out of his mouth instead was an apology. "I apologize for what I am asking you to do."

Shiro's eyebrows went up minutely before he smoothed his features into a blank face but his hands betrayed him for they drummed along his thighs.

"I am loyal to Altea," Shiro stated and not for the first time, Alfor wanted to take the boy's shoulders and shake some sense into him because what is loyalty and honor if he was dead. The words hung like lead in the air and left a bitterness that settled in his stomach; somewhere in the room, a petal fell from one of the crown flowers.

"Of course, Shiro. But sometimes, I wish…"

But what Alfor wished could not be possible. He had power. He had wealth. But even he could not make the impossible possible and he mourned the possibility of a happy ending for the young boy before him.

"But I suppose if wishes were horses, beggars would ride," he stated. "And what kind of King would I be if I indulged myself?"

Shiro's lips thinned and Alfor wanted to say something, anything to the boy who had pinned the flimsy flower crowns onto the walls with a reverent awe when he was younger. They could never be almost father and son; they were king and vassal and that was where they stood.

And as Shiro bowed again and twisted his hands in a signal of fealty, of loyalty, of blood, all Alfor could do was watch because of the burden he had put on the boy's shoulders.

For Altea, Shiro would die.

- Reviews are much appreciated.

- Hope you enjoy~

- Next chapter will be from Shiro's POV.