Chapter 29

Once inside the bathroom, I nudged Cassie, trying to wake her.

“Shut the fuck up,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep but her tone unwavering. “I’m awake, but I like this feeling. And remove your damn finger from my rosebud.”

I smirked at her reaction, but rather than comply, I hoisted her up and, without warning, dumped her straight into the bathtub.

A loud splash echoed through the chamber, water sloshing over the edges and drenching the floor. The bath girls, who had been kneeling in wait, gasped and quickly moved to the side to avoid getting soaked.

Cassie surfaced moments later, her expression a mix of shock and rage. Her wet hair clung to her face as she coughed and wiped water from her eyes.

“You fucking bastard!” she sputtered, shivering slightly as she glared at me.

I chuckled and slid into the warm water beside her, letting it wash over me. “That should wake you up properly.”

Cassie huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she grumbled under her breath before shifting closer, resting her head against my shoulder. The tension between us eased as the heat of the bath seeped into our muscles.

The bath girls hesitated, glancing between us, but I simply leaned back and spoke in a calm, commanding tone.

“If you don’t make mistakes, I will be the best man you’d ever want to serve.”

For a long while, we simply sat there in silence, enjoying the warmth. The water carried a faint scent of lavender and exotic herbs, meant to relax and cleanse the body. The bath girls moved efficiently around us, their practiced hands ensuring that neither of us had to lift a finger.

At the chime of the ninth bell, I exhaled and stood up, droplets cascading down my body. Cassie let out an annoyed groan but followed suit, stretching slightly.

“Alright,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “Time to get moving.”

The bath girls stepped forward, their hands reaching for the oils and cloths they would use to dry and dress us. As they worked, I turned to Cassie.

“So, what’s next, taskmaster?” I asked with a smirk.

She gave me an amused glance as she raised her arms for one of the girls to help her slip into a silk robe. “Nothing major. You need to attend the royal court, and then you’re free for the day.”

I frowned. “No more training?”

“No, I don’t want to damage today’s progress.”

“You’re losing valuable time,” I pointed out.

Cassie sighed, fixing me with a sharp look. “Losing a day is better than losing you.”

I scoffed. “I won’t die.”

“And if you do?”

I grinned. “Then throw me in the pits again to knock some sense into me.”

Cassie visibly shuddered at the memory. I laughed at her reaction. The last time I had trained in the pits, she had been forced to drag me out before I lost consciousness.

“Are you sure about this, Asher?” she asked, her tone suddenly serious.

I nodded, and together, we exited the chambers.

The grand halls leading to the throne room were as imposing as ever, with towering pillars carved from obsidian and banners displaying the royal crest. The scent of burning incense and polished steel filled the air, a potent mix of reverence and authority. The murmur of courtiers quieted as Cassie and I strode past, flanked by two ceremonial guards.

As we approached the immense double doors of the court, two more sentries—clad in gleaming armor, their spears crossed—stood at attention. The moment they saw me, they struck their weapons against the marble floor, signaling my arrival. The great doors creaked open, revealing the vast chamber within.

Inside, nobles, military officers, and high-ranking officials had already gathered. A ripple of whispers passed through the assembly as I stepped forward. My presence here was not a common sight, and many watched me with undisguised curiosity.

At the far end of the hall, seated atop a massive throne of dark iron and gold, was my father—King Aldric. His regal form was draped in a crimson robe embroidered with the sigils of our ancestors. His sharp, calculating gaze fell upon me, studying me with that same unreadable expression he always wore.

A court herald stepped forward, clearing his throat before announcing in a booming voice:

“His Majesty, the King!”

The deep chime of ceremonial bells followed, and every noble in attendance straightened as they bowed in deference. My father gave a slight nod, and the herald continued.

“Presenting His Royal Highness, the Seventh Prince of the Kingdom, Prince Asher.”

A second round of murmurs spread through the gathered nobles. Some observed me with curiosity, others with skepticism. My reputation—or lack thereof—made me somewhat of an enigma among my siblings.

I walked toward the dais, where a court official approached with a silk-draped tray. With a practiced motion, he unveiled its contents—an ornate medallion, my personal designation.

Forged from dark steel and adorned with silver inlays, it bore the mark of my new station: a shield and sword crossed before a roaring beast, encircled by seven stars. It was the symbol of a royal guardian, a warrior sworn to defend the throne rather than claim it.

The herald’s voice rang out once more:

“Prince Asher, by decree of His Majesty and your blood oath taken at the arena, you are hereby recognized as a sworn protector of the kingdom. By accepting this crest, you renounce all claims to the throne and pledge your duty as the Shield of the Crown.”

The weight of his words settled over the court. This was no minor declaration—it was a formal abdication of my birthright, a binding oath that ensured I would never participate in the bloody succession battles my siblings would eventually face.

I reached for the medallion, feeling its cool weight before fastening it to my chest.

A moment of silence followed before the court erupted into polite applause. The decision was made.

As the applause died down, the herald cleared his throat once more.

“Next, we recognize Valefang, Royal Beast Tamer of the Kingdom.”

At the mention of his name, an imposing figure stepped forward.

Valefang was no ordinary man. He was a legend, a towering figure clad in a long, dark coat lined with beast-hide. His presence commanded respect, not just for his years of service but for the sheer aura of power he exuded. The scarred leather gloves on his hands and the claw marks on his armor were testament to a life spent among the kingdom’s fiercest creatures.

He knelt before the throne, fist to chest, showing deference to my father.

The herald continued, “For decades, Valefang has served this kingdom as the Royal Beast Tamer, ensuring that the throne’s might extends not only over men, but over the beasts that roam our lands. His service has been unwavering, his loyalty unquestioned.”

There was no dissent in the room. Everyone knew Valefang’s worth.

“However, today marks a new chapter. Valefang has chosen to step down from his station as the Royal Beast Tamer of the Kingdom to take up a new mantle—that of the Royal Beast Tamer to Prince Asher.”