I Became The Extra King With Seven Wives-Chapter 9: Lumiel’s Kingly Return

"You won’t be needing an eternity, Elbert."

After listening to enough of their pathetic rambling from the corridor, I chose to step in.

Everyone stared at me, jaws hanging slack in utter shock.

To be fair, I looked nothing like the Lumiel they had known, the soft, terrified boy who flinched at shadows. But the family resemblance was there, sharpened so they should.

I was definitely him.

I ignored their gawking and walked forward. The crowd parted instantly, nobles scrambling to step away in panic. They gave me a wide berth, creating a path straight to the dais.

"I hope I’m not interrupting anything important," I said, my voice calm and loud enough for everyone to hear. "Though from the sound of it, you were just discussing how to divide my Kingdom. Do carry on. I’m dying to hear the rest."

No answers except the sound of breath catching in throats. As expected.

I climbed the three shallow steps to the throne, my father’s throne, and now mine. I stopped before it, looking down at the golden crown resting on the red seat.

I reached out, fingers brushing the cool metal, and closed my eyes for a moment.

Father.

I won’t stain it. Not the crown, not the Kingdom. I promise you that. But forgive me, my methods will be different from yours.

I picked up the crown with my right hand and placed it atop my head. It fit my head perfectly. Then I turned around and lowered myself into the seat, settling into the throne.

I lowered Hyperion and placed the sheathed sword against the side of the throne, within easy reach and making sure they could all see it.

Alice had hurried to find a spot, awkwardly positioning herself just below the dais, off to the side. As a maid, she couldn’t step onto the royal platform, but she stood close enough to attend me, waiting with her head bowed.

Anyway.

"What do we have here?" I smiled, leaning my cheek against my fist and crossing my legs.

I let the silence stretch purposefully until it turned very uncomfortable.

A second later, movement caught my eye.

Someone knelt on one knee in front of the dais.

Eleanor.

She bowed her head deeply, the picture of respectful submission.

Her action seemed to snap the rest of the room out of its stupor. Like dominoes falling, the other nobles hurriedly dropped to one knee behind her, heads lowering.

If it were the previous me, they wouldn’t have been this silent. They wouldn’t have been this obedient. They would have offered false smiles and veiled insults. I suppose the drastic change in my appearance, the visible proof that I had survived the Ritual combined with the sight of Hyperion, the legendary sword of Apollina, was quite a pressuring sight.

"I have to admit," I said, letting my voice roll over them, "it’s extremely displeasing to hear people planning my funeral while I’m still breathing. Oh, wait you weren’t even planning it, were you?"

I swept my gaze across the room, letting it linger on a few specific faces.

The first one to raise his head was Elbert Ashcroft. Of course. The man had brass ones, I’d give him that.

"Your Majesty, it is a great relief to see you alive. We deeply apologize for having taken hasty measures and... assumptions about your fate. But we believed, after three days—"

"I don’t care much for excuses, really, Elbert," I cut him off with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

Elbert shut his mouth.

"The matter is that all of you decided I was dead and immediately started plotting against my family," I said, my tone dropping several degrees. "Like vultures circling a meal that isn’t even cold yet."

"Your Majesty, we did not..." Roland Kestrel was the next to stand or try to.

"You did," I said, staring him down until he froze. "First mistake, assuming I was dead. Second mistake, convening this pathetic council behind the backs of the royal family. I suppose you must have forgotten about my mother and sister?"

None of them dared to say a word.

"Putting aside my potential death," I continued, leaning forward slightly, "my mother would have ruled in my stead as Queen Regent. If she was unwell, the next in line would be my sister. But you didn’t bother to consider either of them, did you? You skipped right to selling my sister off like cattle."

Once again, silence.

Heads lowered further.

It pissed me off.

Truly.

How had my father managed to hold it together with this court of snakes? The urge to fire every single one of them or just set them on fire was strong, very strong.

But I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Purging the court would destabilize the kingdom, and right now, we couldn’t afford chaos.

I was a King now. I had to think three moves ahead before taking a single step.

Truly a pain in the ass.

"Nothing more to say?" I asked. "You were quite loud until now. Isn’t that right, Crumber?" I turned my gaze directly to him.

"Y—Your Majesty!" He jerked his head up in panic, eyes darting around for an exit that didn’t exist.

"No more ’Prince Lumiel’?" I asked, tilting my head. "No more jokes about my timely death?"

His face drained of blood until it matched the marble floor. He looked like he was about to faint, ironic, considering his earlier mockery of me.

I sighed and shook my head.

"So much disrespect. So many insults from this Court. I know Kings in history who would have beheaded every single person in this room for half of what you said today," I said aloud.

Not from this world but I knew some mad kings from Earth who would have tortured the hell out of them.

"Y—Your Majesty?" Mark Lewin stuttered. Panic rippled through the kneeling crowd. They exchanged terrified glances.

"But I am a very merciful King," I said, offering an innocent smile that I hoped looked scary for them. "I can forgive. But unfortunately, I cannot forget. My memory is excellent these days. So, from henceforth, use your tongues wisely. Or lose them."

I heard the collective gulp.

That was a good sign. Fear was a crude tool, but it worked when respect was still being earned.

"Alright. I will schedule the next council myself. Until then, you may all respectfully get the hell out of my throne room," I dismissed them with a wave of my hand.

Everyone scrambled to stand up, dignity forgotten in the rush to escape.

"Not you, Eleanor," I added quickly.

The crowd froze for a second, then resumed their escape. Eleanor remained perfectly still, head bowed, one knee on the floor.

The others filed out swiftly, the heavy doors closing behind the last straggler with a booming thud.

I waited a beat, letting the silence settle again. Now it was just me, Alice standing by the wall, and Eleanor kneeling before the dais.

"You can rise," I said.

"Your Majesty," Eleanor nodded as she stood up, smoothing her emerald gown with grace.

I looked at her, really looked at her, taking in her absurd beauty.

She was breathtaking. The golden waves of her hair, the sharpness, the intelligence in her emerald eyes, the delicate structure of her face.

Hearing her confront the entire court for me, defending a husband she barely knew and likely thought dead had impressed me. I definitely liked her.

As expected of my father. He wouldn’t have given me wives just for political alliances. He’d chosen women who could be assets. And in securing Eleanor, he’d brought the kingdom’s sharpest financial mind into the family.

I’d met her a few times years ago. She was already mature and smart back then, intimidatingly so for the old Lumiel. Right now, however, she seemed even more beautiful.

"I am quite honored you believed I made it out alive, Eleanor," I said, stepping down from the dais.

"There is nothing to be honored about, Your Majesty. Every subject should believe in their King," Eleanor replied with a perfect smile.

"I appreciate your loyalty, truly. Even more considering you are my wife. I hope the other six will be as faithful as you," I said, watching her reaction closely.

"I believe they would," she said.

"’Would,’ heh?" I chuckled dryly. "You haven’t changed a bit. Always picking your words perfectly for every circumstance."

"And you have changed a lot, Your Majesty," Eleanor said, her smile turning genuine, tinged with curiosity.

"I am curious," I said. "Go on."

"Your appearance... I suppose it is an effect of the ritual. But you also seem more confident. Did the ritual affect that as well?" She asked, her eyes analyzing me.

"It has," I said, walking toward her until I stopped just inside her personal space. "What else?"

Eleanor looked up at me, a bit puzzled by the proximity, but she didn’t retreat. Her eyes traced my face, searching.

"You have... a great shine, Your Majesty," she said softly, averting her face slightly. A faint flush colored her cheeks.

I reached out, my fingers threading gently through the strands of hair near her ear. She didn’t flinch. She just kept her face averted, breathing shallowly as my knuckles brushed her cheekbone.

"You are beautiful, Eleanor."

"I am pleased to hear that, Your Majesty," she whispered.

"Above that, I like your courage. Facing down those morons to come to my defense took certainly guts," I said.

"That is my duty, Your Majesty," she replied.

"Duty or not," I smiled, brushing my thumb against her soft cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin.

Eleanor finally glanced back at me, her emerald eyes locking with my burning amber-gold ones.

"I am glad you are my wife."