At the news of Joran having been friends with Drekor, the Realm Monarch held his prose, and continued speaking, "If that is so, then that is great news to hear. I pray however, that this is the truth; using my beloved son as a chip would only serve one purpose if this was false."

A sudden chill went through the air, and not only Joran, but Hando as well shuddered with it. Even with their assurance, especially Joran, they couldn't help but bow to the supreme prestige.

Hando stammered out the rest of what he wished to say, sweat appearing on his brow, "Y-yes of course, Realm Monarch! Simply announce to Drekor that Joran is here, and I'm sure the rest will follow in line."

A moment of silence pervaded the conversation.

Then another moment.

Seconds slowly turned into a minute, as time ticked by in accordance to the duo's heartbeat, which steadily quickened as they withstood the forced silence. Joran even found himself holding his breath, out of fear that a single sound would disturb the Realm Monarch.

It wouldn't have been so tense if the Realm Monarch gripped his chin, pondering. Or if he had sign of warm compassion.

But instead, he stared straight at the two, unmoving. Absolute.

Joran instantly understood in that moment the caliber required to lead an entire realm of people. Millions who follow this one person's rule. Millions who put their trust and faith on the shoulders of this one person. And the Realm Monarch exuded nothing but power, prestige, and absolutism.

Finally, the Monarch flickered his eyes between the two, before resting them directly on Joran; the first time he had done so since Joran and Hando walked into the chamber.

"So you are Joran?"

The breath that Joran held expunged itself forcibly, as he gasped for air as quickly as he could to respond, "Yo… Your highness—No, Rea- Realm Monarch. I—I am… I… I am indeed Joran."

"What is it that you want?" He appeared to not have even noticed that Joran was sweating and stammering out his reply like he'd lost his mind, and got straight to the point.

Joran cooled himself down, taking a breath's time to regain his composure, as he continued.

All the same, shaking, "I… wish nothing more than to live a… a peaceful life."

At this, the man on the throne finally changed expressions, and raised his eyebrow, "Is that so?"

Joran thought for a second, realizing that even with what was at stake, the end result was the same regardless.

To live a life in that garden, as carefree as he had over the years in the Central Districts. That was his dream and utmost desire.

Achieving this was paramount.

The Realm Monarch grunted to himself and started to think deeply, stroking his chin. Right when Joran felt that the spotlight stopped threatening to set him on fire, the Monarch frowned deeply.

"That's it?"

"… Eh?"

The change in the Monarch was so drastic that Joran couldn't help but stutter out a response that could only be described as a knee jerk reaction. Even Hando was taken aback by the transition.

"The most powerful card holder, the Joker, wishes to only live a peaceful life?"

Before a response could be mustered, the man boomed with laughter. Scornful laughter.

"I sit here, day to day, governing the Realm, ensuring that we not just survive, but thrive within. To protect us, so that we can build up tomorrow. I possess the utmost power in the entire realm, but supposedly you have greater potential than me?"

Joran quickly tried to intercede, "W-well, I don'-"

But the Monarch quickly went forward, now starting to get increasingly angry, "I worked my entire life to achieve this status that I possess, I was in the dregs of society, a low of low within my clan, even the bottom most laborers could only feel pity for me. And yet, despite that, I was given the chance to obtain what I could. I got a Queen card, and fought tooth and nail to garner the respect that I wanted; that I demanded.

"How could I possibly sit here and let a passive… an undeserving person take up the mantle of the legendary Joker card? How could I sit here and hear about your desire to live a peaceful life, when there is no such thing without work towards it; when there is no such thing with the world we live in. It is impossible, to chase such a childish dream, and yet you will strive for nothingness, by doing nothing.

"An absolute disgrace!"

Joran threw himself on the ground and kowtowed, tears nearly about to spill out. The Realm Monarch was about to order the guards outside of the chamber to seize the groveling boy, when a soft voice rang out from behind him.

"It is the way he is, Father."

Joran's eyes widened open, the tears flying as he jerked his head up to see the voice's owner to be none other than Drekor. Without a care in the world, he could only smile widely as he was about to call out his name.

But this was quickly stifled as the Monarch roared, "You stand in defiance?!"

At this, Drekor could only sigh, "Joran will do as he pleases, Father. You can never pressure him to do anything."

Drekor's father frowned, "Well, I made him grovel."

While it did not go past the duo in the middle of the chamber that the Monarch completely changed his voice and tone when addressing his son; they also did not risk mentioning this, and continued being as respectful as humanly possible.

Drekor shook his head, "You can make him do things he considers meaningless; but unless you risk the things he truly care about, he will give up everything up to his life to do as he wants."

"Oh ho… Is that so?"

Without any warning, the Monarch disappeared from the throne, a mirage distorting the empty air.

"….?!" Hando could only gasp as he realized what happened as the Monarch held his golden sword closely to Hando's neck.

Joran, without a single care of everything up to that moment, instantly triggered his Sacred Sights Arts, emitting a gold hue to his eyes, roaring in absolute defiance, at the same time readying to brawl with the Realm Monarch, "LET HANDO GO!"

The Monarch, somewhat surprised by the youngster's outburst, let out a slight sigh, "Well I'll be damned, Drekor is right. You're willing to throw away yourself for the sake of your comrades. Very good…

"But what can you do to prevent my decapitating him? Will your Arts 'see' through me? Or will you perhaps watch Hando's life disappear, along with his heartbeat?"

Joran's eyes shrunk in horror, but gritted his teeth, "I don't care… He has nothing to do with my shortcomings, why must you threaten him?!"

"Boy, you're missing the point," He relaxed his blade hand, and at the same time, instantly disappeared in a mirage again and appeared resting on the throne, "He was in my palms. And I would kill him. Then what?"

"Then I would… Then I…

… I don't know," Joran calmed down, and realized the outburst he had made, and quickly knelt back down, "I understand what you mean now."

"Simply too weak. And the Arts you chose has no capability for battle. A true shame to say the least.

"But Hando did make the right decision to bring you here and ask for help. The question would of course still stand, do I grant this plea to guarantee your safter? A plea for asylum…?"

Joran clenched his hands, grimacing as he cursed his own impulsiveness.

A minute went by, and the heartbeats of the three that stood by waiting counted down the time again, with Hando finally calming down from his brush with death, and Joran's mind repeatedly cursing over and over again at himself for being an idiot.

Finally, the Realm Monarch grunted, "Hmm… Even with such a childish dream, you could be considered to have an ambition: Protecting your friends."

At this Joran thought back to the last six months he spent with Hando… And Liam. And how Liam laid down his life for the duo to get to safety in Portsmouth….

And how utterly useless Joran was, only able to run away.

Gritting his teeth, he stood up and looked straight in the monarch's eyes, "I realize now that I can't afford to ignore the world anymore. As cruel of a fate as that is to me, I can also find that it's blessing to be reunited with my friend, Drekor. After all… A peaceful life must have companions to be fulfilling."

For the first time, a smile appeared across the King's face, "Oh ho, a wise nugget, aren't you?"

"…?"

"…."

"… Nugget?" The other two gawked, while Joran's mind couldn't click with yet another change to the Realm Monarch.

Drekor composed himself and sighed inwardly, "Father, please…"

With that jab, the Monarch's prose completely shattered as he frowned childishly at his son, "What? Isn't that what you kids say these days?"

"… nuggets? Really? Is that something Drason told you??"

"… So what if he did?"

"Argh… alright."

The doting father was not something Hando or Joran thought they'd ever see come out of the Realm Monarch, much less so after what had just transpired. Yet, here he was, nearly a complete reversal of his previous persona.

He proceeded in the same manner, even towards the duo, "Forgive me for earlier, I did not intend to kill you, Hando. I just hate to see passiveness, especially from someone Drekor speaks so highly of. Did my son truly lose some of his brain when he went to the Central Districts…?"

Drekor coughed quite loudly at the remark, "Ahem, no, I did not lose any parts of my brain. I only found fortune, and a great friend there," and then Drekor turned to smile to Joran, much in the same way that Joran did when he first saw him, "It's good to see you after some time, Joran."

"Heh, much the same, Drekor. Though I do apologize for keeping you waiting."

Drekor chuckled, "Huh? You mean you didn't just plan to get a Two of Spades after all?"

The Realm Monarch frowned, "Hah? A Two of Spades? Son, what the hell did you see in this kid? Maybe after all I should get the guards."

"Father, please; you jest."

The Realm Monarch looked confused and started to wave for the guards, "What do you mean, I'm being ser-"

"FATHER PLEASE!"

…

In the valley, it had been several years since Drekor had arrived at the Central Districts, and although he knew of where he'd end up afterwards, he still strived to receive the prestige and reputation that his family had rested on his shoulders in stride. Many people came to respect Drekor, and many more came to acknowledge his abilities and demeanor as fitting of the Crowned Prince. Even if someone else may come to challenge for the rightful throne, it was still good as a formality to prepare for a successor. Drekor Reigan felt he was completely capable of compassion and empathy for the people, as well as absolute determination and resolve to protect the people…

… Except for one person in particular…

Waltzing into a small garden, Drekor held his prose as he approached the boy casually perched underneath the lone willow tree within the fencing of the garden, and smiled warmly, "It indeed is a great day to rest under the warm sun, but I do wonder why you do this every day, Joran Gouriki?"

Joran casually gave a sideways glance, as if his rest was more important, and simply shrugged in response, "If not now, when?"

"That's… A weird way of putting it, and it doesn't really explain why you're so adamant on being such a…" Drekor caught himself from saying nuisance and cleared his throat with a cough before proceeding, "… problem student for your teacher. Why must you be so…"

Drekor couldn't keep himself from straying to the word nuisance. Here Drekor was, someone who certainly understood what it meant to have a reputation to uphold. And yet this student, Joran, would refuse to even give face for the sake of the Gouriki name. It was perplexing, but most of all, infuriating.

Joran scoffed, and finally shuffled to sit legs crossed facing Drekor now, "And who are you?"

Drekor's back slightly stiffened as he recollected his thoughts, "Well, I'm Drekor Reigan, of course!"

"…" A moment passed…

"…" Another moment passed…

Finally, Joran scratched his chin, slightly concerned about the forced silence, and awkwardly waved, "Uh… Hi?"

"… Do you not care about who I am?"

"Should I? All I care about is what I have here."

"'Here'?" Drekor looked around at the garden itself, but couldn't help but feel this was simply too childish, even if this Joran boy had been pampered all his life, "I… I don't understand what this garden has to do with anything."

"It doesn't."

"Huh?" Drekor finally broke his prose and slouched down to the ground, unable to grasp what Joran's babbling meant.

"Did I stutter? It doesn't have anything to do with the garden, at least not directly."

"So… What is it then?"

Joran finally gave a good look at Drekor, and gave a subtle, but firm nod along with an inkling of a smile, "Well, if you really want to know, sit with me under this 'warm sun', and maybe you'll understand."

Drekor groaned a little, "Can you at least tell me why you're being such a… nuisance?"

Joran went back to his original position, resting under the willow tree with his back laid on the trunk, only this time, he was smiling mischievously, "Well, it's up to you whether you want to relax with me, but that's the only way you'll ever get an answer from me."

"…"

A sigh escaped from Drekor's mouth, "Fine, we'll do it your way."