I thought you were here to help me don the yellow robe.
But after all this—it turns out you're actually planning to capture me and feed me to an evil dragon.
Shiayar observed the Knight Commander kneeling respectfully before him. The man's eyes kept unconsciously stealing glances at him, his hand resting instinctively on his waist. Shiayar couldn't help but sigh deeply.
As the saying goes, 'Mysticism doesn't save the ill-fated, nor can wealth alter destiny.' Even though I've contracted with the Serpent of Destiny, my initial identity in this Echo of History doesn't seem to have improved much. Compared to being a prince about to be sacrificed to an evil dragon, an orphaned commoner with no background seems like a better lot.
"Speaking of which," Shiayar began, "didn't you just say that the King has passed away? And that I am the only prince?"
