The Kingmaker System

I was given a clean, dry dress to change into and directed to a small room within the old temple—one of the few spaces that had remained intact through the ages. The air inside was damp, carrying a faint, earthy scent of moss and decay, but it offered privacy, which was all I needed. The fabric of the dress was coarse but comfortable enough, a stark contrast to the fine silks I was accustomed to back home.

As I changed, my thoughts lingered on the dragon’s remnants—the ancient, powerful presence I’d encountered in the lake. The spirit had felt as old as time itself, bound to this sacred space by some unspoken duty. How long had it stood sentinel, holding the encroaching darkness at bay? Centuries? Millennia? My blood hummed at the memory of its voice, an ancient timbre steeped in wisdom and sorrow.

And yet, a gnawing unease crept into my thoughts. What would happen if I succeeded in freeing it? Would the darkness it held in check surge forth, wreaking havoc on the world beyond this forest? For all its quiet majesty, the dragon’s presence was a precarious dam holding back a flood of chaos. The weight of responsibility pressed down on me, but I shook it off. There was no room for doubt—not now.

By the time I returned to the temple, Benedict’s gaze was locked on me, sharp and calculating. He wasn’t a man who masked his thoughts well; suspicion radiated from him like heat from a flame. I pretended not to notice, keeping my expression composed, even playful. Let him wonder why the lake had reacted so strongly to me—it was amusing to keep him guessing.

The Saint, however, was a different story. The child trailed behind me, silent but visibly curious. His small hands twitched as if itching to reach out, to tug at my sleeve and demand answers to the questions swirling in his wide, innocent eyes. But he didn’t speak; he knew better than to challenge the unspoken authority Benedict wielded over the priests and everyone else. Instead, he stayed by my side, his presence warm and steady, until we reached the temple’s inner sanctum.

"Saint, you should return to your chambers," Benedict said, his tone clipped and final.

The child hesitated, his doe-like eyes flickering to mine in silent plea. It was almost endearing, how much he seemed to depend on me. I offered him a soft smile and nodded reassuringly.

"It’s fine. I’ll see you later," I said gently.

Reluctantly, he obeyed, his small frame disappearing into the shadows of the corridor. I turned away, my thoughts already shifting to the tasks ahead.

Back in my chambers, Sir Asher lingered at the doorway, a hesitant figure caught between duty and curiosity. His presence was as steady as ever, though there was a tension in his posture that suggested he had questions he was hesitant to voice.

"Won’t you come inside, Sir Asher?" I asked, arching a brow.