Melting your Precious Heart

Chapter 5 - He is a Living Legend

It was already late in the day, and a gentle dusk had begun to cloak the castle in a soft, muted light. Father, ever the pragmatist, suggests that we allow the stranger to rest for the evening. He has an important meeting scheduled with the King tomorrow—my grandfather, in fact. Until that moment, I'd been observing this man closely, and I noticed that his demeanor was strikingly different from the nobles I'd encountered before. There is no air of arrogance about him, no ostentatious displays or cunning glances; rather, he seems completely at ease, as if he is unfettered by the complexities often associated with court life. It seems clear he has no ulterior motives or hidden agendas.

When Father gently told him it was time to retire for the night, the stranger accepted without a second thought. His compliance only piqued my curiosity further; he hadn't made any extravagant gestures to ingratiate himself with Father or to elevate his own stature in our eyes. This is rather unusually refreshing in the world of high society, where flattery often flows like the finest wine. Furthermore, as Father had informed me earlier, it was none other than the King himself who had personally extended an invitation for this man to visit our castle—a fact that adds a tantalizing layer of mystery to his presence.

I had been contemplating a way to inquire about the stranger’s identity, his lineage, and the striking qualities that warranted such a personal summons from the King. However, just as I was about to pose the question, a deafening scream reverberated through the castle, breaking the evening's tranquility and sending a ripple of fear through me. Despite being acutely aware of the royal protocols that dictate one should never enter the King's chambers without knocking, the urgency of the situation compelled a break in decorum. For the first time in my life, I disregarded the rules and, driven by concern, pushed the door open.

What I came to see was truly beyond my wildest dreams—a sight I longed for: my grandfather, the King, smiling in a way that felt genuine and heartfelt. During the years marked by turmoil and unrest that have gripped our kingdom, I had grown used to witnessing the weight of the crown reflected in his serious, often troubled expressions. Seeing him smile at such a serene moment sparked a whirlwind of questions within me. What could possibly bring him joy amidst the chaos that envelops our realm?

“I’m so very sorry for intruding, Your Majesty,” I stuttered, guilt flooding over me as I realized my audacious act. "I heard the scream and feared something terrible had happened. In my panic, I failed to think before entering your room. Please forgive my rudeness." Despite feeling remorseful for my impulsive behavior, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the extraordinary moment I had just stumbled upon.

“It’s perfectly fine, my dear princess. Come here,” my grandfather said, his voice warm with kindness. He gestured for me to take a seat beside him, and I felt my apprehension slowly ebb away, replaced by an eager anticipation. Curiosity bubbled within me, urging me to find out what had brought such happiness to his face.

“Grandpa, may I ask you something?” I ventured, my heart racing as I prepared to broach the topic that burned in my mind, one that revolved around his sudden joy and the mysterious stranger.

Although I am a princess and understand fully the necessity of respecting the royal figure of my grandfather, our relationship allows me the privilege of affectionately calling him “Grandpa” whenever we are alone. It is during these moments that I can momentarily step away from the waves of formality that often surround the crown.

“Before you do, I'd like to ask—did you meet little Felix?” Grandpa asked, his smile broadening even further, shining with an almost infectious delight. The name resonated within my mind, and I searched my memory. Felix? Where had I heard that name? Then it clicked—he was the peculiar boy I had traversed paths with earlier that day, alongside Father, on our journey home.

“Yes, Grandpa! Father and I encountered him earlier during my return from training. What of him?” The puzzlement and concern laced my words; I hoped the boy hadn’t caused any trouble or displeased my grandfather in some way. But judging by the gleam in Grandpa’s eyes, that seemed unlikely.

“Felix’s father is a great baron in our kingdom—a man of historical significance who holds the distinction of being the very first knight to receive a baronial title. He was a trailblazer, paving the way for knights to ascend into the higher echelons of nobility, an extraordinary achievement,” Grandpa explained, his passion palpable as he spoke. “In our hierarchy, knights are considered nobles, but they often occupy the lowest rung and lack the vast territories to govern. For a commoner, attaining the rank of knight is the pinnacle of achievement. Yet this was all transformed when a humble knight changed the course of history to become a baron.”

As Grandpa elaborated, the weight of his words began to sink in, profoundly illuminating my understanding of this seemingly insignificant boy. He was not merely a child; he was a living testament to a transformative legacy—Simon, the knight who defied the odds, who reshaped the very fabric of our kingdom through his courage and determination. Pride welled up within me, not just for my grandfather and our royal lineage, but for all the brave souls who fought against the tides of their destinies to create a new future for our realm. This connection sparked within me an appreciation for the remarkable stories held within our kingdom, stories that would forever alter the narrative of what it means to belong.

"So grandpa, that’s Felix’s father, right?" I inquired, my voice tinged with curiosity and the eagerness to unravel more about this intriguing connection.

"Yes, and also my best friend," he responded, a twinkle of nostalgia dancing in his eyes. This revelation hit me like a bolt of lightning; I had never paused to think that my grandfather, the esteemed king, could have a best friend. Sure, I was aware of the multitude of acquaintances that surrounded him—dignitaries, nobility, and various members of the court—but it was almost universally understood that few would dare approach a monarch with such intimate familiarity. The idea of them forging a bond strong enough to be called friendship was near incomprehensible. The mere fact that he labeled anyone as his "best friend" was monumental, shading my perception of my grandfather's solitary reign with a hue of camaraderie and warmth.

As I observed my grandfather’s expression morph into one of animated reminiscence, I found my intrigue deepening, compelling me to urge him to share more about this significant relationship and how it played a pivotal role in the unfolding of history. With an eager smile, grandpa began to tell the tale of how Felix's father had been assigned as his bodyguard when my grandfather was in his twenties—a responsibility handpicked by my great-grandfather, who was then the reigning king of the Brinzell Kingdom. At the time of this assignment, Felix's father had still been a mere teenager, yet he had already showcased extraordinary promise as a knight. With unwavering dedication, he pursued rigorous training and carved his way through the ranks with remarkable tenacity, eventually attaining the esteemed position of the personal protector of royalty—my grandfather himself.

Their friendship began to blossom swiftly, and grandpa fondly described Felix's father as "so cool," clearly indicating the bond they formed had a profound significance. Grandpa was the solitary heir to the throne and, although many were drawn to him, most of those seeking his companionship did so with questionable motives. Some even conspired against him, veiling treachery beneath gestures of camaraderie. Yet, it was Felix’s father who stood steadfast, unwavering in his loyalty and courage, springing to my grandfather’s defense on three separate occasions. Each time, he skillfully thwarted the plots of corrupt nobles, fiercely protecting my grandfather’s life and, consequently, safeguarding the integrity of the throne.

Thanks to his incredible valor and unwavering loyalty, my great-grandfather conferred upon Felix’s father the distinguished title of baron a few short years after he assumed the mantle of bodyguard. This moment was not just a celebration of bravery; it solidified their friendship and subsequently altered the course of history itself. Other noble people, acutely aware of the honor granted to Felix’s father, grew cautious, reluctant to voice dissent for fear of becoming targets of suspicion or potential retribution. Thus, those who rallied to support my grandfather’s claim to the throne remained silent witnesses to the emergence of a legend within the annals of our kingdom’s history.

Enthralled by my grandfather’s narrative, I found myself lost in thought, pondering the depth of these cherished memories. Could this be the reason behind the radiant smile gracing his aged face? Was he, perhaps, reliving joyful moments spent in the company of his beloved friend?

"Grandpa, why are you sharing all of this with me?" I ventured, genuine curiosity lacing my question, seeking to understand his intent behind recounting such a monumental chapter of his life.

"I want you to give little Felix a chance to prove himself to you, Princess. I know I was the one who cautioned you to be wary and hesitant about trusting anyone outside our royal bloodline, but Felix is different. I can sense the greatness and kindness within him, qualities that echo his father's noble spirit. Perhaps this presents an opportunity for you to discover a true friend in him," he declared earnestly, his eyes gleaming with hope.

Yet, despite his well-meaning words, I found myself grappling with hesitation. While it was abundantly clear that Felix’s father had been a man of great virtue and kindness to my grandfather, I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been motivated, at least in part, by the promise of a bright future and the imminent kingship of grandpa. He had acted with a protective instinct—not just out of friendship but with an awareness of the advantages it could bestow upon himself and his lineage. The legacy of personal gain hovered like a shadow over my thoughts.

In that fleeting moment, I was engulfed in a swirl of conflict. While I struggled to identify anything specifically wrong with Felix’s father, I found it difficult to believe that his son could embody any different characteristics. My grandfather’s earnest advice was met with my inner hesitation; after all, history had shown me time and again that kindness could often be a guise for self-serving ambitions. Thus, I quietly expressed my apology to grandpa in my heart, acknowledging that I couldn’t wholeheartedly accept his trust or embrace young Felix without reservations.