A Guide to Kingdom Building

Aturs, Year of Severus, 15, I.R., the 32nd day of Fall, Arenfall

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Lord Prestonheim looked pale under the brightly lit torches radiating in the camp. Adaloun could see the wrinkles of his long and tired face as he stood proudly at the end of the isle. The well-dressed raven-haired knight cleared his throat once again.

"Presenting to you, his Majesty, Prince Arterius. The firstborn, heir to the throne of the Principalia and his people." The well-dressed knight knelt in one knee and bowed his head as the prince descended from the carriage.

For some reason, Adaloun's hearted pumped erratically in anticipation of the prince's reveal. The carriage moved as it shifted its weight. He could see from the distance a small-statured man exiting the carriage.

The man almost looked like a boy. His brown, chestnut hair stood up like a sore thumb. His pallid complexion and his hunched weakly gait made him looked sickly more than anything else. The so-called prince walked with a limp as he walked into the isle of raised spears.

He was disappointed. The prince was someone he didn't expected. Out of all his reincarnations, the princes and nobles he had met were tall and athletic with broad shoulders and chiseled body. They exude confidence that no other individual could bring. An air of authority and an aura worthy of a king. Not like him.

The knights bowed as the prince limped along the isle. Adaloun respectfully bowed to the prince. Regardless of how he felt about him, a prince was still a prince, weak or not. He wasn't expecting much out from him, and at that point he didn't seem to care. His interest dwindled as the limping prince paraded himself along the lines.

When everything was done, Adaloun and the beastman went back inside their tent. The beastman's eyes glimmered and widened as he talked about seeing an Imperial noble for the first time.

"I have never seen a noble before!" The beastman smiled over the thought of it.

"Well, Lord Prestonheim is a noble." Adaloun answered.

"Is he really?" The beastman scratched his head. "I thought he was only called Lord Prestonheim because of his ranking with the knights."

"Nay, lad." The dwarf educated the naïve beastman, "Lord Prestonheim is a Lord from house Prestonheim, a House near the Vridian border."

Adaloun nodded. He had always been astounded by the dwarf intellect with regards to this world's history and politics. It was one more information he could add in his knowledge.

The beastman scratched his head once more, "I'm sure the prince was supposed to be a little dignified isn't he not---Ow!"

The dwarf punched his flank. "Shutap! If someone 'ears yer werds, will be in the gallows by mornin'!"

The beastman apologized and sat silently near the elf who comforted him. Adaloun shook his head and kept his words to himself.

There are a lot of things running inside Adaloun's mind. Firstly, why was the prince here? Has it something to do with the aetherium ores? Secondly, was he currently recruiting for men to join a rebel cause against the throne. It happened previously in his past lifetime, so that could be it. Lastly, had he acquired the Isles from the Bieroffs? That could be the most logical explanation among the other two.

Their chatter ended when Tristam entered their tent once again, but this time, he wasn't alone. Tagging along with him was Lord Prestonheim, another older knight with streaks of white hair over his golden mane, and the well-dressed raven-haired knight who seemed to be baffled why he was there.

The former slaves bowed to their benefactor and greeted him happily.

"Fair Greetings, m'Lord! I am glad yer well." The dwarf did his best bow despite his unstable gait at the moment.

"Please, you don't have to do that." The silver-haired Commander humbly said. "I am glad that you are well, dwarf, elf and you too beastman…I never thought you'd come out of that alive." He weakly smiled.

"Me either, m'Lord. But the fates were kind to us." The dwarf stood up and went back to his bed.

The rest of them stood up too and Adaloun greeted the Commander. "Lord Prestonheim, it's good to see you well…I thought—"

"I thought I was to die there, Adaloun…" He approached the freed slave and patted his shoulder, "I should've just followed you out of there if I had the chance."

"Still, my Lord, I am just glad you came back alive and in one piece." Adaloun bowed.

"Barely…Adaloun…barely." Lord Prestonheim smiled and introduced him to the other older knight. "If it wasn't for an old friend, Commander Crovar. I would've perished already. That castle was damned to the walls!"

Commander Crovar approached Adaloun and eyed him from head to foot. After he was satisfied, he nodded his head to Lord Prestonheim before extending his hand to the freed slave. Adaloun found it rude and uncomfortable the way he looked at him, but he clasped hands with him, nonetheless.

"Ahhh…A grip, good." Commander Crovar seemed to be impressed. "August, was this the one you mentioned? The one who made it out alive of that burrow?"

"Yes, Syleon, it is him." He nodded. "Adaloun, this is Lord Commander Syleon Crovar, the commander of the Marine Fleet."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my Lord." Adaloun slightly bowed.

"Well met!" Commander Crovar looked at Lord Prestonheim with a huge grin on his face, "Are you sure he is a slave? He has more manners than some of the nobles I knew!"

"I can assure you, my Lord, I was indeed a slave until Lord Prestonheim made a deal with us. If you want I can give you my slave number, that's—" He said to the astonished Commander who felt uncomfortable with what he said.

"Oh! You don't have to do that, A..Ada…What was your name again, good…ummm…?" The Commander fumbled for his words. He realized that his fascination turned to be a little offensive to the people involved.

"It's Adaloun, my Lord." He smiled at the Commander.

"I will keep that in mind, Adaloun." The older knight answered.

"That's enough for now, gentlemen." Lord Prestonheim interrupted. "Adaloun, I know this is a little rushed, but we would like you to follow us." The silver-haired Lord asked.

"What is this all—" the freed slave asked but was interrupted by the raven-haired knight.

"Pardon my intrusion, ser…Adaloun." The well-dressed knight said. "But my prince had requested for your presence."

The other freed slaves' eyes widened in disbelief. Why would they have to ask of him? Is the Lord's report not enough? What does the royal crown need of him?

Adaloun looked back at his comrades looking confused. He sought to find some answer or at least some guidance from either of them, but they were as shocked as they were. He looked into their eyes until the dwarf nodded to him slightly. It was like telling him to go and listen what they would have to say.

There was still an air of doubt about the other nobles. It was only Lord Prestonheim that Adaloun would trust with his life. He didn't feel comfortable with the others, not with what happened earlier. But he remained calm and nodded.

"I shall be with you in a moment." Adaloun answered. "Let me just fix—"

"There's no need for you to look that presentable—" The raven-haired knight butted again. "Err…It really doesn't matter how you present yourself to the prince, he wouldn't mind at all." The knight bit his lip after realizing how offensive and disrespectful he sounded to him.

Lord Prestonheim had to go between them and try to deliver the message in a softer way. "The ward didn't mean no harm with what he just said." Lord Prestonheim massaged the bridge of his nose. "What he was trying to say was, the prince is not really particular with what you wear or your upbringing."

Lord Prestonheim held Adaloun by his shoulder, "Trust me, Adaloun. He is a man of integrity and you can trust him."

Albeit hesitant, Adaloun nodded and agreed to follow them back to the Prince.

But before they could get out of the tent the raven-haired ward looked back at him and asked, "Prince Arterius, wanted you to bring the sword you have and the piece of rock you acquired down the mines." The ward said. "He said it was the most important thing he needed you to bring. Would you care and grant his wishes?"

Adaloun really hated how these guys talk. It felt like they were looking down on him, but their gestures tell different otherwise. It seemed like the language of the higher society was different from the language the normal citizens and slaves are using.

It was refined and sounded pleasing to the ears but, it was more condescending when you hear about it. There was just something on the way they pause and use their words that felt every conversation sounded more of an insult.

It could be just them. But it was definitely contrasting to the way the nobles acted on the previous worlds. He had to remind himself that he was from currently in another world that had different laws and traditions.

But who knows? Maybe the nobles especially the royalty might be the same as the royalties he had met before? The benevolent ones he hoped, but it was only a one in a hundred chance a noble would be like that. Let alone a member of the royalty.

Adaloun could only put his hopes up.