Viator looked at the rose in his hand. Its dark-blue petals seemed unique; usually, blue roses were grown by the nobility in their gardens, as if to show they were above common folk—that they were special. But this rose felt strange to him.
"What was he trying to tell me with this?"
A crowd began gathering around Viator, everyone shouting their questions until it all merged into an indistinguishable noise.
"We must show who we are!"—some cried.
"What should we do next?"—others asked.
Some simply watched in silence.
"Quiet!" - Viator shouted loudly, hoping the crowd would fall silent.
"We cannot let the king know of our existence. It would not only alarm the bastard but also bring great trouble upon us,"
He said, walking among the people, seeming to peer into each of their eyes.
"Do you truly wish to fight the entire empire? There are barely a thousand of us, if that. Better we focus on one coordinated strike."
Romulus stepped forward, his usually gentle gaze now serious and intent.
"My name is Romulus. Once, and even now, I serve in the imperial army. If you need my support—just tell me what to do."
Viator's lips curved slightly.
"I do not care for your dreams of a new rule or a coup. I want to kill the bastard and nothing more. But since we are united, I will try to help you achieve your coup."
A man in the crowd called out. He was middle-aged, well-dressed, with curly chestnut hair.
"I am Ludwig Horaize, one of the aristocrats. My family owns a trading company, and we hold influence in several cities. I believe this may aid the coup."
Agnes nodded.
"I quite agree with Ludwig," she said, pausing before sighing and continuing.
"Since everyone is introducing themselves, I am Agnes Anderson. The empire is vast and holds many peoples, but most have grown accustomed to King Icarus' rule."
After a short silence, she continued her thought.
"That is why we need support and loyalty across many regions. Especially, we must eliminate pro-royalist aristocrats and other officials who could obstruct us after the tyrant's death."
Viator sat down, crossing his legs.
"True. And I know nothing of such matters, so I'll rely on your support. Tomorrow, I will tell you the plan for the assassination."
After these words, he clenched his fist and pressed it to his heart.
"We will give our hearts and souls for the king's death!"
The crowd seemed to understand instinctively. They placed their fists to their chests and shouted in unison:
"For the king's death!!!"
---
Akito sat in a meadow near the bridge leading into the capital, his mind replaying the day's events—the beginning of actions toward the coup, Viator's speech, and the support of the people.
He lay back fully on the grass, its blades tickling his neck, his blue eyes staring up at the sky.
"It feels like I'm still a child… Like back then with Andy and Ray…"
The boy got up and brushed the grass from his clothes. He walked toward the bridge but glanced back at the "Resistance Base", where Viator still sat. A faint smile crept onto his lips as Akito passed through the gates.
In the city, everything was as usual: merchants calling out to customers, children running and playing their games. Reaching the tavern door, Akito pushed it open. At a table sat Sophia, apparently already on her third bottle of wine.
"Where's Atticus?" he asked, watching her pour another glass.
"Seems he went somewhere… Are you drinking or what?" Her face carried a drunken smile, her cheeks slightly flushed.
"I don't understand why you drink so much," Akito replied, sitting beside her. Sophia was already pouring him a glass and set it on the table.
"And what else is there to do when there's no work? Lying in bed isn't the best option. This way it's more fun, calmer… Seems this is the first time it's just the two of us drinking."
"Then to this moment."
Akito raised his glass and clinked it against hers. The wine was truly fine, with a sweetish taste and an intriguing aftertaste.
After draining his glass, Akito felt warmth inside, as if things had grown lighter. Sophia poured herself another glass, and when she was done, Akito grabbed the bottle and poured the remaining quarter into his own.
"You know, better stop drinking. Marcus is supposed to return tomorrow."
"So what? The old man is actually a good person, he'll understand. Plus, I'm his granddaughter. You and Atticus will be the ones cleaning all this up."
Akito almost choked on his wine before standing up.
"And you?"
Sophia smiled, leaned back, spreading her arms and closing her eyes.
"I'm in charge now, so listen to me: start cleaning when Atticus shows up. Of course, I'll have work too—sleeping and resting while you two toil. Seems fair enough."
She got up and lazily headed upstairs, her legs wobbling from the alcohol so that she held onto the walls for balance. Akito leaned back in his chair, picking up the empty glass bottle.
"Such a strange thing," he muttered, tipping it upside down to catch a few drops. They were bitter, but they sparked a craving for more. With a heavy sigh, he set the bottle on the floor and began waiting for Atticus.
What felt like an eternity passed. Akito was already dozing off when the tavern door opened and Atticus entered with groceries. He scanned the room.
"Where's Sophia?"
"According to her, 'She went to sleep and rest,' and we have to clean this place up."
Atticus carried the sack of goods behind the counter, then into the kitchen and down into the cellar. After a few minutes, he returned with a broom and rags.
"Well, that's Sophia for you. You'll wipe the tables, I'll sweep. Together it'll go faster."
By the time night fell, Akito was already asleep in his room, while Atticus kept cleaning, unsatisfied until everything was "perfectly clean."
---
That evening, as the sun was setting and the sky burned orange, a short man bowed low.
"Your Grace… I mean, Emperor… The rebels have begun moving. Among them appeared a black-haired man who called himself the Cursed. I saw his power, and I believe he is serious."
A man with wavy white hair stood at the window, wearing a crimson tunic. He had been watching the sunset, but this news pulled his gaze back to the one bowing before him. His pale curls seemed to rise slightly in the air, and his eyes flashed red.
"Aren't you supposed to be their leader?"
"Emperor… I cannot control everything. When I found out, I came straight to you."
"Better leave before I kill you."
The emperor's voice was firm and commanding. The man bowed once more and quickly left the chamber. The white-haired man began pacing his room until he returned to the balcony. His hands gripped the railing.
"To think… not once in this century has such a thing happened. I wonder what he is planning. Could something truly interesting finally begin?"
He clenched the railing hard, laughing loudly, as though the whole country could hear him. The marble cracked, then shattered, pieces flying in all directions. His laughter stopped. He opened his hands, and what looked like sand poured from his palms.
"I must keep control of myself… I will not allow eternal idea fall."