Farce

The Executioner’s Delight

From the dimly lit passageway above, I gazed down at the grand hall of the royal castle, bathed in brilliant light. There was no way they could see me from down there.

On the stage, the Second Prince took his place, preparing to announce the commencement of the “Thanksgiving Banquet.” Surrounding him were his usual companions. Normally, their respective fiancées should have been standing at their sides, yet that was not the case this evening.

Under the magical glow of the illuminated chandeliers, the Second Prince, with his dazzling golden hair and deep ocean-blue eyes, raised his voice:

“Let us celebrate our coming of age! From this day forward, you are recognized as noble subjects who have pledged allegiance to the kingdom and shall serve as its pillars. I expect you all to devote yourselves to the kingdom’s prosperity and the strengthening of our forces. I had intended to keep my opening address brief, but before we begin… I must first convey an important matter to all of you!”

With an air of arrogance, he lifted his chin, his voice amplified by an enchantment, resonating powerfully throughout the grand hall of the royal castle.

This was the Second Prince—the one closest to inheriting the title of Crown Prince. His future had all but been promised. His words now reached every noble youth who had just come of age, along with their families, all of whom were integral to the kingdom’s governance.

The sheer presence of his authority was overwhelming. He had already begun to exude the aura of a king.

Everyone focused intently on his next words. The vast hall fell into complete silence—no one so much as coughed. A sea of serious, expectant gazes turned upon the Second Prince.

Yet among them, there was a growing sense of unease.

Because standing beside him—where his rightful fiancée should have been—was a viscount’s daughter, draped in an extravagant gown.

The young lady in question struggled to suppress a triumphant smile. Her emotions were plain to see—a glaring testament to the failure of her upbringing. Those who understood the gravity of this ceremony—a crucial royal event—were bewildered by her presence at the Second Prince’s side.

“To enroll in the Magic Academy, one must have a fiancée. This rule applies even to royalty. However, it is also permitted for engagements to be annulled if complications arise while enrolled. After all, this period is meant for evaluating one’s lifelong partner.

“I have spent much time in deep contemplation. Before entering the academy, I believed that my betrothed—the Lady of the Grand Duke’s House, who had stood by my side since childhood—would be a suitable consort.

“Yet, regrettably, she revealed the arrogance of her noble lineage. I came to realize this painful truth when she, out of jealousy, sought to expel a truly remarkable young lady—a noble daughter of a viscount’s house, who now stands beside me—from the academy.

“I was appalled. Enraged.”

His voice rang out in clear and commanding tones.

Perhaps he believed he was offering a rational explanation for why the viscount’s daughter now stood at his side.

But this was a grave mistake.

Even if the events within the academy were widely known, such personal grievances had no place in a formal coming-of-age ceremony.

Moreover, for the prince himself to publicly declare them?

Had he consulted anyone before speaking?

By whose authority was he making this statement?

Had this been discussed and agreed upon in the morning council, where government affairs were deliberated?

In the darkened passageway above, the esteemed figures who had gathered to observe this spectacle sat quietly, their expressions unreadable.

I could only imagine the turmoil brewing within their minds—the storm raging in the hearts of His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen, as they watched this disaster unfold before them.

Seated before me, the Lady of the Grand Duke’s House—the very woman being falsely accused—remained silent, her face betraying no emotion.

Her composure was… almost unnatural.

It was as if she had expected this.

I was at a loss for words.

Even as unjust disgrace was being cast upon her, she stood unwavering—resolute in her dignity, as if none of it mattered.

She had not changed since the day I first met her, when we exchanged words in that long corridor.

Coldly pristine. Unyielding. Brimming with unshakable pride.

Meanwhile, below us, the Second Prince continued his foolish monologue:

“The Lady of the Viscount’s House showed me kindness and compassion as I dedicated myself to my studies to lead this nation. Of course, she was engaged to another.

“Thus, I kept a respectful distance.

“Yet her fiancé abandoned her. He never sent her gifts, nor did he show her any concern, leaving her wounded.

“Her guardian, recognizing this injustice, took extraordinary measures to dissolve her engagement.

“I say this to preserve her honor: the sole blame lies with her former fiancé—the son of a lowly frontier knight.

“She bears no fault.

“After all, he is just a backwater peasant. His magic is the only reason he was permitted to study at the academy in the first place.

“A mere insect like him could never be a match for someone as noble, as graceful, as compassionate as she is! Never!”

“To protect her from any further injustice, I have pledged my full support and ensured she can complete her education as a true lady.”

How utterly one-sided.

His speech was nothing more than the distorted product of his narrow worldview.

Had he never considered listening to other voices? Had he ever tried to see the full picture?

If he had, he might have realized that his own conclusions were flawed.

Instead, he surrounded himself with sycophants—those who only told him what he wished to hear.

And now, blinded by his own privilege, he exercised his authority without any balance or wisdom.

A man like this—so incapable of understanding the true workings of the world—could never be a king.

For a prince raised in a golden birdcage, even a common butterfly larva must have seemed more radiant than the noble ladies he had known all his life.

This was the failure of his royal education.

He had been pampered for too long, shielded from reality.

A tragedy, truly.

Born to a wise and esteemed king, raised by a queen who was the pinnacle of nobility, this was the best he could become?

Far too naïve. Far too blind.

If this ignorant child were to sit upon the throne, he would doom the kingdom to darkness.

He had no vision beyond himself.

He had no ability to analyze, to gather intelligence, to see beyond rumors and hearsay.

Even a low-ranking knight like myself had been taught from childhood to assess the truth behind words.

And yet… the Second Prince lacked even this most basic skill of nobility.

If he were banished to the frontier, he wouldn’t last a year.

The wilderness would devour him.

And the people of the borderlands—they would not offer their aid to one who refused to listen.

I watched this farce unfold, my heart filled not with anger, but with sheer disappointment.

He could insult me.

He could slander my homeland.

But his words were meaningless.

Even His Majesty, who sat observing from the shadows above, showed no sign of support.

The Minister of War even glanced toward me, wearing a look of deep apology.

It didn’t matter.

A newborn’s cry was no different than the empty words of a spoiled prince.

To take offense would have been pointless.

And then… he turned his attention to the Lady of the Grand Duke’s House.

This fool truly had no idea what he was doing.