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“Your loss to Bella does not undo everything you, Sophia, and Cyrilo have accomplished. The literature program you’ve established is a blessing for this world, and you and Sophia managed to take down a gold-ranked knight who was standing in the way of public education. That is no small feat. You’re too young to be focusing on your regrets, on what you couldn’t do. The story of the Bow Mistress is only just beginning. When the war against the Profane is over, they’ll sing songs and legends about you, about how you fought and saved this world. And your clash with Bella? That’ll be a good story for you to tell around the campfire.”

“What’s wrong, boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said Noah as he approached. He then turned to the ref. “Sorry, I’m late. I think I drank something that didn’t agree with me.” He flashed Viktor an accusing glare, with the warrior trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

As for Galvin, we’re lucky that regeneration serum managed to fix his injuries. Even with the Wassengel, no one would support a blind, dickless eunuch for a king. But no serum could fix his shattered mind.” She looked down at the manacle on her arm, similar in design to the one Galvin used to control the Wassengel, and with a similar purpose. “Still, perhaps it wasn’t without its silver lining. My son was supposed to be my key to the throne, but the little cretin failed me at every turn. Now he’s finally useful to me, and all I had to do was take away his free will and turn him into a good little puppet. This was simply the excuse to do what had to be done. I can feel him fighting for control, feel his resentment, but it’s no matter. He will serve the purpose for his birth whether he likes it or not.”