“Your Majesty, an envoy from Iras has arrived.”

“Iras?”

Iras was located beyond two other nations, to the west of the Ganon Kingdom and on the far edge of the continent. Ruled by a sultan, it was a vast, fertile land rich in resources, blessed with ports opening onto the Western Sea. Because of this, Iras had grown into a prosperous maritime kingdom that thrived on coastal trade.

Unlike the neighboring inland nations of Ganon, Iras depended on sea routes rather than overland caravans. Even when drought struck Ganon, Iras continued its maritime commerce with little difficulty, sailing around the continent to trade with other coastal realms.

Its people had no reason to want for anything, nor any need to seek help. As their own ruler was also in the midst of succession, there had been no envoys or trade missions between the two kingdoms.

As a result, this sudden visit was all the more unexpected.

“I’ll return to the palace at once.”

Laerte, holding Elvit in her arms, decided to follow later by carriage, while Egon mounted his horse and rode ahead at full speed.

For the first time in years, he no longer hid himself. His silver hair caught the sunlight as he rode, gleaming like a blade in motion.

People along the road stopped and bowed deeply as he passed.

‘So this was possible after all.’

Once, he lived in constant fear of being seen for who he truly was. Every silver strand of his hair and every strange gleam in his eyes felt like a curse. Now, however, it was those same traits that inspired reverence instead of scorn. Seeing the people accept and honor him as their king filled him with an overwhelming sense of emotion that he could hardly name.

Everything had changed since Laerte entered his life, and each subsequent event felt like a miracle defying reason. Even this sudden arrival from Iras seemed to carry meaning — another ripple of fate setting itself in motion.

When Egon reached the palace, the attendants rushed to greet him. They wiped the sweat from his brow, draped a fur-lined cloak over his shoulders, and placed the crown on his head to restore his regal appearance. He then stepped into the hall to receive his guest.

It was a demanding occasion, but Egon, the newly crowned ruler, knew it was only fitting to appear before a foreign envoy in full regalia. Yet when he entered the hastily prepared audience chamber, he faltered in surprise.

In the middle of the grand hall stood an astonishing array of gifts: bolts of vibrantly coloured silk shining in the light; tall jars filled with scented oils; and aromatic bundles of spices that perfumed the entire room. There were also delicate mechanical devices, the kind traded across distant seas — proof of Iras’s vast network of commerce.

The newly hired attendants and maids, many of whom had fled during the kingdom’s fall, stared in open wonder. They craned their necks and inhaled the exotic fragrance, unable to conceal their awe. Egon noticed their fascination, but said nothing. He understood.

“His Majesty, the King!”

The herald finally announced, snapping them to attention.

At once, the envoy rose from his seat beside the treasures, and his attendants quickly moved the chair aside.

Egon took his place on the throne. The envoy bowed deeply, pressing his forehead to the floor.

“I pay my respects to His Majesty, the King of Ganon.”

“Rise.”

Egon said, his tone composed.

The envoy was an elderly man, his beard streaked with silver. He wore a white turban wound tightly around his head, wide trousers bound at the ankles with cords, and long, curved shoes—traditional attire of Iras.

“Our Sultan wishes to establish peace and friendship with the Kingdom of Ganon.”

The man said respectfully.

“Peace?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. We are aware that your kingdom has experienced difficulties, but our Sultan recently held his coronation and invited sovereigns and consorts from across the continent. Unfortunately, Ganon was not present, so he has sent us to invite you to visit Iras.”

At that moment, Laerte entered the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of the mountain of treasures.

“Her Majesty, the Queen!”

The envoy greeted, bowing low with practiced grace.

Laerte’s golden hair caught the light as she walked to Egon’s side and took her seat beside him.

“Were you already in conversation?”

“The Sultan of Iras wishes to invite us to his country.”

“Iras?”

She repeated, her expression curious—both surprised and intrigued by the sudden offer. Laerte’s face brightened as she turned to the envoy.

“Iras has a sea, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”

The envoy replied with a polite smile.

“And I’ve heard you have large ships—ones that float on the water. Is that true?”

Her lively curiosity softened the air in the hall. The envoy’s smile deepened.

“If Your Majesty were to visit Iras, you could see them—and sail upon them—as much as you please.”

Laerte’s eyes sparkled at that, and the atmosphere became more relaxed as formality faded and warmth took its place.

Nevertheless, Egon knew that diplomacy required patience. No matter how promising an offer sounded, decisions made too quickly could never be undone. So, even though he had secretly decided that they should go, he chose not to answer immediately.

“The Kingdom is still finding its feet. We’ll take as much time as is needed to discuss the details before making a decision.”

“Of course.”

The envoy agreed readily.

After exchanging a few more formal courtesies, he left.

Once the chamber had fallen quiet again, Laerte looked at Egon, puzzled.

“Why didn’t you just say yes right away?”

Egon smiled faintly.

“Diplomacy is complicated. Once you say something, it’s hard to take it back. When you don’t need to decide immediately, it’s always best to wait and promise a reply later.”

“I see.”

Laerte said thoughtfully.

“There must be a reason for the invitation—a purpose behind it.  That’s what I don’t understand yet.”

“But isn’t it nice, just getting along?”

Egon arched a brow.

“If only it were that simple. Look at Harriet and me—being brothers doesn’t guarantee peace.”

Laerte let out a quiet sigh of agreement.

“That’s true.”

Like Ganon, Iras had also experienced strife between brothers — its throne was recently seized amid conflict.

The two brothers had been competing for succession to the sultanate, and when the ruler died suddenly, civil war erupted in Iras, with each prince taking up arms against the other. The younger son, Amin al-Sulaymani, emerged victorious and became the current sultan.

“Harriet wanted me gone, and I wanted him dead too, but neither of us actually did it. The feeling is entirely different.”

He felt a strange chill at the thought that someone had truly driven a blade into a brother and removed him from the contest.

“Iras is a country that lacks for nothing. It’s strange that they’d propose friendship like this.”

“There’s nothing strange about it.”

Laerte said, guilelessly.

“You’re the king. Even if they didn’t want to be friendly with Harriet, they might still want to be on good terms with you, Egon.”

“Is that so?”

It made sense—Numebo’s dazzling progress had made many lands eager to court him. Letters often arrived asking for his counsel on building planned cities, or offering to consult on how to replicate Numebo’s success.

‘Am I being too suspicious?’

Egon wondered for a moment.

“You once promised you’d show me the sea.”

“Ah—so I did make that promise.”

He only mentioned the catch because he wanted to; the fairy promise had been unexpectedly fulfilled before, and he could not imagine Laerte casually deciding to travel to the sea with him. Besides which, if he broke his promise, he would be punished by gradually turning into a tree.

“I want to go with you. And take Elvit, too.”

Laerte’s eyes shone.

“You said you’d been to the sea before, right?”

“Yes.”

“I want to see it soon, too.”

A memory suddenly surfaced in Laerte’s mind.

“You must take me to the sea.”
“I will.”
“Take our child as well.”

Back when they had first tried to have a baby, the sea had come up in conversation and Laerte had asked him to promise they would go someday. But when she added, “Take our child too,” his reply had been oddly stiff.

“You wouldn’t mind going alone, but… isn’t it dangerous to bring the child?”

She had felt a chill at the curt response, which didn’t feel quite right.

‘Could it be that he’s reluctant to bring me or Elvit?’

She had pictured the sea as something beautiful and simple: waves crashing, a view worth seeing at least once. She hadn’t imagined there might be some hidden danger only Egon knew about.

“Come to think of it, you did say you didn’t want to bring the child to the sea.”

But four years into parenthood, the thought of leaving her child behind while she went sightseeing felt impossible to Laerte.

“Is there something you’re worried about?”

Egon tilted his head in surprise.

“What do you mean? If we go to the sea, of course we’ll bring Elvit.”