Anxiety

Revival Palace.

Tales's memories of this palace were vague.

A very long time ago, to the beggars scraping out a living on the streets, the "King's Great House" at the end of the avenue, several blocks away, had been an unreachable legend—mysterious and imposing, hazy and weighty.

They could only learn of this legendary palace, which shared its title with the King of Revival, through the exaggerated, ridiculous, and wildly inaccurate plays performed at the Midnight Temple: how extraordinary its origins were, how much it had endured, and how it had stood unshaken beneath Mingye's protection.

Or they could glean a little from the jumbled ramblings of drunken patrons swaying on their feet: "I'm telling you, I know so-and-so. He's got a friend who works at Revival Palace. That place is, well, like this..."

Or, while begging outside, they could timidly poke their heads out from unfamiliar, spotless streets and catch a glimpse of the palace's enormous silhouette amid the hurried forms of passersby, leaving them gasping in shock and unable to tear their eyes away in envy.

That feeling had lasted until six years ago.

Until the turning point in Tales's fate.

The Duke of Star Lake slowly closed his eyes.

But...

But even after becoming a Prince and the nominal heir to this palace, Tales had only realized that he still did not understand Revival Palace.

Six years ago, when he first entered Revival Palace, he had been carried through its walls after an assassination attempt, unconscious and unresponsive.

Six years ago, when he left Revival Palace, he had departed in a carriage, his mind in a daze with his journey north imminent.

As for now...

With the guards on either side standing at attention and the escort behind him marching in perfect formation, Tales opened his eyes