Chapter Text
Sunset bled on the verdant plains, lengthening shadows and darkening the shapes that stood out against the incandescent sky. A nightingale sang in the distance, a last lively call before the drowsiness of night. Alone in the torpor, a lone man walked on the path that rose towards the city and presented himself at the gates.
“Hey there, stranger!” one of the three guards on duty called out to him. “What are you doing here so late in the evening?”
From under his hood, the traveller gave a placating smile. His dark blue cloak concealed the rest of his dress; it was a beautiful cloak for how old and worn it was, spun of thick wool, the shoulders embroidered with coloured feathers.
“Seeking shelter,” he replied. “Surely you won't let a poor wretch like me sleep outside on the road, at the mercy of rain and robbers?”
“The last light of the sun has already vanished,” the guard said. “By royal orders, no one is to enter the city nor leave it after sunset.”
“It hasn't completely set yet,” the traveller insisted. “Even as I walked down the path I could still see its bright orb kissing the horizon, and its glow still bathes the hour.”
“It is His Highness's special decree on the nights there is a Ceremony.”
The traveller frowned, annoyed. He opened his mouth to protest once more, but was interrupted before he could do so.
“It's no use.”
Another silhouette rose from where it had been sitting slumped against the wall. It was a man of broad stature, with a square jaw and a dark green mantle as frayed as the traveller's own. He approached him with a weary smile.
“I already tried, right before you arrived,” the man said. “I couldn't persuade them.”
The traveller ignored him.
“How about a friend of Master Fey?” he addressed the guard once more. “Your High Priestess wouldn't like to know you let a friend of hers remain outside for the night.”
That made the guard falter. He exchanged an uncertain glance with his colleagues, then after a nod, one of them left.
“The Master has been fetched. If you're lying, there will be consequences.”
The stranger didn't look worried as they waited. The other man kept throwing curious looks at him.
“For you to know the Master... are you from here? I don't think I ever saw you around these parts.”
“Oh, no,” the traveller answered with a laugh. “I know Maya from her childhood home, where her sister took me under her wing. This is the first time I visit this country, even though I have been wandering for ten years.”
“It will be a long-awaited reunion, then,” the other man commented.
The traveller nodded. “What about you?”
The man shrugged, lifted a hand to scratch behind his neck somewhat awkwardly.
“Me, I'm just a humble healer, pal. This city used to be my home, long ago. I come back from a long exile.”
“Exile?” the traveller asked, his curiosity piqued.
The healer waved dismissingly. “It's a long story. Hopefully we won't be stuck here all night for you to hear it.”
The traveller looked at him thoughtfully. The man exuded candidness, a certain kind of innocence under his rough exterior. The traveller was certain that, should he wish to do so, he would have no problem coaxing him into speaking more.
Before he could decide whether or not he wanted to do so, however, the guard came back with another figure in tow, a young woman wearing elaborate purple robes and a magatama around her neck. Her face lit up upon seeing the traveller, and she ran into his arms with a joyful cry.
“It's been so long!” she said. “What are you doing here?”
The traveller's eyes sparkled, his smile as wide as hers. “I thought I would pay you a visit and congratulate you when I heard you had been elected religious leader of this city. It's so good to see you, Maya.”
“Well that's so kind of you, mister! It's been years! You've got to tell me everything you've been up to!”
Behind them, the guard cleared his throat.
“I suppose that means you want me to let the young stranger in?”
“Of course!” Maya said. Her eyes wandered to the other man, who was waiting expectantly there. “And also his companion. The prince will never know about it; if he does, I will take full responsibility.”
The guard still looked reluctant, but after a moment more of hesitation, he did let the three of them through the watchtower small door and into the city. Once they were in, the third man let out a sigh.
“Well, thank you, miss,” he said with a bow. “I thought I was about to spend the night outside in the cold. My name is Gumshoe.”
“Of course,” Maya said. Then her face darkened. “You both chose a terrible day to visit. We unfortunately have a Ceremony, and it looks like this suitor won't last any longer than the others.”
“Ceremony?” the traveller said, while Gumshoe asked, “Suitor?”
Maya sighed.
“Come to my home. I'll explain everything to you, since my duties only require me to be present at midnight.”
They walked through bustling streets, wide avenues, then sinuous alleys. The city looked old but alive, busy enough to be worthy of being called a capital. In the distance, above all other buildings, stood the palace. Maya led them in its direction, walking through luxuriant gardens that they exited to find themselves in the oldest part of the city. As they walked, Maya clung to the traveller's arm, Gumshoe looking in on them with amusement then going on ahead.
“Soooo, Nick,” she leaned in, “tell me everything. Have you really been wandering all this time?”
“Yes, all of it,” the traveller smiled. “I've kept a record of the weirdest foods I could find, just like you asked me.”
The light in Maya's eyes turned more mischievous.
“And? Don't keep the best part to yourself! Did you find him?” she asked, as though the question was burning her lips.
The traveller sobered. “No. No luck on that end yet.”
Maya's face fell.
“I suppose you'll want to leave again soon, then...”
She trailed off. All of a sudden the easy, companionable atmosphere between them had tensed. The traveller looked away, knowing he couldn't give her the answer she wanted.
“I'm sorry, Maya.”
A beat of awkward silence.
“It's just... You've been searching for this guy for ten years,” she said. “Don't you think it's time for you to give up? Aren't you tired?”
“I can't just give up,” he protested. “I know he needs me.”
“He might not even recognise you after so long!”
The traveller's hand moved to brush the long strip of bright red silk he wore around the waist. It was as worn as the rest of his clothes but retained spots of its former brightness, and was soft to the touch.
“It doesn't matter if he does. I just want to see him again, help him, if I can. He had such sadness in his eyes...”
Maya pouted, moved away from him. The traveller threw her an apologetic glance.
“I'm not leaving that soon, though. I was planning on staying a few weeks, if that's all right with you.”
She sighed, turned back to him with a small, sad smile.
“I suppose that's better than nothing. You've got to take care of yourself, though.”
The three of them had arrived at a tall building with high windows, which seemed to tower over them as they entered. They climbed a couple floors and reached Maya's apartment. It was cosy, comfortably big in a way that spoke of the honour of her function, but decorated in a way that was so her that it negated any intimidating atmosphere it may once have been designed to have. They took off their shoes and followed her to a nice little kitchen as she made tea for them and offered them biscuits.
“So, tell us everything,” the traveller said once they were settled all together around the table. “What's happening here?”
Maya pinched her lips, suddenly looking tired and much older than her age. Both men leaned towards her.
“All right. How much do you know about the history of the Kingdom of Edgeworth?”
Her friend made a puzzled face, but Gumshoe seemed to know more about the question.
“It has been prosperous for a long time, and very powerful. But ten years ago, King Gregory died in a tragic accident, and now his son Miles sits on the throne.”
Maya pinched her lips together, her hands wrapped around her teacup.
“Well, kind of,” she said. “He was too young to rule when his father died. The regency fell to a former advisor of the king's, a guy named von Karma, who also took care of the prince's education. He is still ruling in his stead.”
Gumshoe frowned. “Hasn't it been four years since his twentieth birthday? He should have been crowned already...”
“No. He's not married yet, and with good reason,” Maya replied. “Honestly, I'm not sure if I want to see him actually rule. He's not very well-liked. Even with his limited power, he doesn't seem to take much interest in the affairs of the kingdom.”
“Really? What a shame,” Gumshoe lamented. “We all thought he'd make a great king, back in the day.”
“What?!” Maya exclaimed. “You knew him?”
“Yeah, pal! I used to be the royal family's healer.”
“Used to?” the traveller said, a glint passing through his eyes as he frowned in thought. “Is that related to what you told me earlier about a long exile?”
The healer nodded, his eyes troubled like those of a kicked puppy. “I was among the first to see the king's body while we were on diplomatic travel. I had some suspicions about his death which I shared with the captain of the guard. It must have been the wrong thing to do, though, because next I knew all the servants were fired and I was banished.”
Both his interlocutors gaped.
“That's... woah,” the traveller let out.
Maya's expression was grim.
“It wasn't an accident, was it?”
Gumshoe sighed.
“Pretty sure not. That's why I'm here, actually. Now that the prince's a bit older, I was hoping to reach him... tell him the truth without anyone to silence me. But I expected him to be on the throne.”
Maya took another sip of tea.
“It's not impossible. I can help you. But you'll have to wait for another few days,” she said. “Especially if you want it to be discreet. During the Suitors' Ceremony, the prince doesn't see anyone. At this time, the throne room is packed, and security is tight in the palace.”
“What's this ceremony we keep hearing about anyway?” the traveller asked.
Maya sighed. “Okay, here's the deal. By law, the heir to the throne, in order to come into his power, needs not only to have reached his twentieth birthday, but also to be married. The first came and went, but the prince will not hear about the second.”
“How is that possible?” Gumshoe said, frowning. “He was a sweet kid, and with his inheritance, the suitors should have been rushing at the door.”
Maya let out a bitter, barking laugh. “Oh, they were, believe me! But the prince has no interest in marriage whatsoever, or any happiness at all for anyone, really. So he set up a horrible scheme to avoid his duties, and we're all forced to be complicit in it.”
The traveller's eyes widened. “A scheme? What kind of scheme?”
“Well, you see, anyone who wants to court him needs to solve a challenge which he designed. The deal is that if they win, they can marry him; however, if they fail, the prince has them executed. But he is a very intelligent man, and his challenge is nearly impossible. In the four years since the rule was established, no one has succeeded yet.”
“No one?” the traveller repeated, dumbfounded.
“Nope,” Maya confirmed, in a horrible, falsely cheerful tone. “The latest suitor to date is supposed to try tonight. If everything happens as usual, that's when he'll die. If he's lucky, he'll succeed tonight and fail tomorrow. I don't think I've ever seen anyone make it to the third day. Hundreds have died.”
There was a horrified silence. Eventually the traveller let out a low whistle.
“Wow,” he laughed in disbelief. “How are people still even trying?”
Maya shrugged.
“Honestly, my life would be so much easier if they could just take a hint and leave him alone and miserable. Because as the High Priestess, I am the one who has to attend and officiate every execution, mind you, to make sure every rite is observed. It's been hell.”
The traveller put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing her back.
“I'm so sorry, Maya. That sounds horrible.”
Gumshoe was silent, looking at his cup of tea in sorrow. “I can't believe he became so cruel. He was such a bright boy. Always so compassionate and keen on helping others...”
The traveller scoffed.
“Honestly, the suitors are the most stupid in this whole thing. Who would want to risk their life on the off-chance that they can marry such a jerk? No thanks.”
Maya laughed. “Well, he is the heir to a broad, prosperous, and powerful kingdom. One he doesn't seem to want to rule all that much, either.”
“Yeah, still sounds like an expensive alliance,” the traveller mumbled. “I'd pass.”
“Most people are all too hasty to throw themselves in a folly,” Gumshoe gravely said, “and too confident to consider failure.”
They nodded at that piece of wisdom, and silence fell back on their little assembly. Then Maya sighed and stretched, looking at the hour.
“Looks like it's almost midnight,” she said. “I've got to go to the palace.”
She rose. The traveller followed her movement.
“I'll come with you. You shouldn't have to go alone.”
Maya threw him a tired smile. “That's kind of you, Nick, but I'll be fine. This isn't the first time. You should stay here and relax.”
She turned towards her other guest. “So should you, Mr. Gumshoe. Do you have a place to stay tonight? You can stay here if you want.”
“That's very kind of you.” Gumshoe smiled at her. “I think I'll come too, if that's all right. If only to have an idea how things have changed since I last was here... I'm sure I won't be noticed in the crowd, right?”
“Ugh, fine,” Maya rolled her eyes. “It's not gonna be fun at all, though. You can't say I didn't warn you.”
That didn't change her two companions' minds.
The palace was huge and intimidating, even though Maya made them enter it through a side door. Between the elaborate arches, the marbled floors, the lavish decorations, all gold and coloured paints, the entire place screamed of wealth and grandeur. Maya led them through the labyrinthine halls into the throne room, which was, if at all possible, the grandest room of it all.
“Stay with the crowd,” she told the two men. “I need to go stand with the advisors.”
They nodded, finding a place in the hall as close to the dais as they could. Maya climbed up the stairs and went to stand on the left of the throne, in the back, near a half-dozen old people clad in rich robes. On its right, closer to the prince than anyone else, stood an older man wearing an ornate dark blue suit. All of their eyes were set on the lone figure a little to the right in front of the throne, tall and muscular with a mane of dark blond hair cascading on his broad shoulders. His thick eyebrows were furrowed in thought, his entire body tense, sweat trickling on his face as he wrung his hands in anxiety.
And at the very centre, sitting on the heavy, ostentatious throne carved in mahogany and adorned in velvet and gold, a man looked on with none of the tension of the others, his legs crossed, a bored expression on his face. His robes were the richest of them all, maroon silks and furs engulfing his silhouette, golden jewels sewn all over his clothing. On both of his hands, one of them carrying the chin he had delicately rested on it, the other lightly wrapped around the armrest, slender fingers wore several rings. A fine circlet adorned his forehead over thin bangs of silver hair that belied the youth of his features. His straight nose was turned up at the scene, thin lips set in a slightly disdainful pout, eyes hooded over high cheekbones.
The two companions pushed and pulled, trying to find a place to stand without being tossed about by the crowd. As his eyes fell on the rich throne and the man sat upon it, the traveller gasped. Gumshoe threw him a confused glance, but the traveller didn't notice, his eyes riveted to the prince.
“It's him...”
The healer was about to ask for more information when bells began to ring, their sound drowning the chatter of the crowd and any attempt at conversation.
It lasted for several minutes before their sound slowly died down. In the newfound silence, the prince straightened, his gaze slowly travelling over the crowd before resting back on the distressed man in front of him.
“It is midnight,” he spoke in a crisp, clear baritone. “Do you have an answer?”
The broad man swallowed, his eyes darting all over the place without stopping anywhere. He kept silent.
The prince waved his hand. Guards stepped forward and seized the man, who struggled in desperate fear.
“No, please –”
“You know the price for your failure,” the prince said, his voice soft. “But the manner in which you meet your fate is still your own choice.”
That seemed to strike the man. He stopped struggling, deflating in defeat. Then, after a shaking breath, he straightened, his shoulders squared back, his head raised with poise and courage, a steeled expression on his features.
To that desperate show of dignity, the prince only deigned respond with a faint stretch of the lips, barely even a smile.
“Go on with the execution,” he ordered.
The crowd was getting agitated, whispers travelling like a breeze in the leaves. Gumshoe and the traveller looked around, confused.
Up on the dais, one of the advisors stepped forward and closer to the throne.
“Your Highness, it would be wiser to release him. The House of Powers has been an ally of the Kingdom for generations,” he said in a low voice, leaning towards him. “To kill Prince Will would break all ties with them. Your people themselves hold him in their favour, as they know of his deeds of bravery as a respected samurai; hear their clamouring.”
Indeed, the rumble of the crowd was growing stronger, with people calling for the prisoner's release.
“Facing death will be his bravest act, as it is for all men,” the prince simply replied. His face hadn't moved at all from his cold, bored expression. “Go forth with it.”
They forced Prince Will to kneel in front of the chopping block that was placed in front of the throne, at the base of the dais. Another guard came forth, bearing an ornate, long two-handed sword. Maya stepped forward and came to stand next the kneeling man, reaching out a trembling hand above his head, the other clasping the magatama around her neck as she started reciting a prayer in an ancient language. When she finished, she stepped back wordlessly.
The executioner came to stand in that same place. He pulled the heavy sword from its scabbard with a hiss, then held it high towards the sky for a few seconds before bringing it down with all of his might. The blade landed swiftly, Prince Will's head rolled; blood poured down the stairs of the dais, into the crowd, which parted with exclamations of horror.
For a moment the entire room seemed suspended in silence, struck with the weight of what had just happened. Maya bowed her head in respect towards the body; most advisors seemed equally struck. The crowd was frozen. Only the prince didn't seem shaken.
One person in attendance, however, hadn't watched any of it take place. The traveller's eyes were burning as he stared at the prince, taking in nothing else of the scene. His face went through several emotions, too fast to catch, too intense to read.
In the end, he was the one who broke the silence. He stepped forward, onto the stairs of the dais.
“Prince Miles,” he said, his voice loud and clear, “I wish to attempt your challenge.”
The crowd gasped, shouted in shock. Gumshoe caught the traveller's arm and pulled him back.
“Are you mad, pal?” he said in his face. “Do you want the same thing to happen to you?”
“I know what I'm doing, Gumshoe. I know him,” the traveller replied, not fazed in the slightest. “Don't worry about me.”
“I don't think you do!” the healer insisted. “Even I wouldn't claim something so ridiculous, and I've known him for most of his childhood!”
But the traveller shook him off. He kept climbing the stairs, his steps parallel to the trail of blood flooding from the still warm body of his predecessor.
From his throne, the prince had witnessed everything in silence. But the ennui had all but fallen from his face. He followed the traveller's ascent with renewed interest in his eyes.
“Is it death you are courting, stranger?” he said, amusement colouring his voice. “For you to step forward right after my previous suitor's demise... truly, I believe this is the first time it ever happened.”
“Let me try my hand at your trials, and I will show you another first time, too,” the traveller replied.
He came closer to the throne, standing right in front of it. The prince huffed out a laugh, meeting his gaze head-on; even tilting his head back didn't make him lose any of his cool or his authority.
“How daring. And who might you be?”
With a small smile, the traveller pulled back his hood, revealing his peculiar hair, black and sharp, standing in pikes that seemed to defy gravity. Jagged, insolent eyebrows sat above his dark eyes, which were now holding the prince's with fire in their depths.
“An old friend,” he said.
The prince delicately lifted an eyebrow as he beheld the traveller, taking in his whole figure, from his face to his ragged cloak, his daring posture, his worn boots. The traveller kept his gaze trained on him, but the prince's face didn't betray the slightest emotion.
“Your Highness, I know him,” Maya hurried to say, stepping forward with an anxious glare at the traveller. “He is not of noble blood and doesn't own any land. According to your own rules, he is not eligible to your courtship.”
“Is that so?” the prince said with the highest disinterest.
The traveller shifted on his feet, swallowed.
“I guess you don't remember me, then.”
The prince didn't respond, staying silent as he kept looking at him.
The man that had been standing on his right stepped closer to the throne. His face, severe and angular, made him seem older than most of the other advisors; his white hair was slicked back from a high and wrinkled forehead. His dark blue clothing, embroidered with gold, was nearly as opulent as the prince's himself, and both of his hands rested on a cane of fine wood until he lay one on the prince's forearm.
“Your Highness,” he said, bending his head towards the prince's, “I must advise against the action I see you considering in the brashness of youth. You need to think of the kingdom's interest, and the far better matches you have, time and again, refused to make.”
The prince scowled, glaring at the wrinkled, ringed hand on his arm, then up at the advisor's face.
“And which I intend to keep refusing to make,” he retorted. He waved dismissingly, shaking the advisor's hand off his arm in the process. “If he is so determined to die, who am I to deny him? Let him be one more example to all the reckless adventurers who do not prize their own heads.”
He looked at the traveller again, ignoring the disapproving face and the pinched lips of the advisor on his right.
“If you haven't come to your senses before then, present yourself at the palace tomorrow morning, and I will lay down the terms for you.”
Then, lower: “I hope you will at least make it interesting for me.”
The traveller smiled at him, crooked, impish. The light of challenge in his eyes was only matched by the prince's.
“I'm counting on it, Your Highness.”
And he bowed, a gesture more daring than respectful.
When finally the prince, his guards and his advisors left, the body was taken away, the crowd dissolved, and Maya found her way back to her companions, she was fuming with rage.
“What were you thinking!” She grasped the traveller's arm, forcing him to look at her. “Didn't I tell you, didn't you see how dangerous this is –”
“Maya,” the traveller softly interrupted her. “Maya, I had to. It's him.”
“What do you mean it's him? Of course it's him! But it's your head he'll be having, and...”
She cut herself off, opened wide eyes in comprehension, then looked back at her companion with dawning horror.
“No. No way. He is the guy you've been looking for? All these years?!”
The traveller simply nodded. She took a step back, turned around, throwing her hands in the air.
“I can't believe this. I can't believe this! You are the biggest idiot in the world!”
“If I may,” Gumshoe timidly stepped in, “she has a point, pal. To see with my own two eyes what the prince has become...”
He let out a long, mournful sigh.
“Whatever he once was, he no longer is. You will only be chasing after a dream, and one that will cost you your life.”
“I don't think so,” the traveller replied, tilting his head to the side in thought. “It's so clear he's putting on a front for everybody. Deep down, he's suffering. I need to help him. It's the least I can do.”
Maya crossed her arms, huffed.
“It's really not. You're just being a stubborn moron. Do you think I want to see my best friend die? Are you really going to make me stand over your body while they execute you?”
The traveller's face softened somewhat, moved by her obvious distress. He reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.
“It won't happen, Maya. I'm not too bad at thinking on my feet, and I have a pretty good idea how his mind works. I can take that challenge of his. Trust me.”
They stared at each other for a little while. Then Maya deflated.
“Let's just – let's just go back to my home, okay? We can talk about it more there.”
Both men nodded, and they made their way back in silence, but it was clear she was still upset. Nothing they said or did could console her, since the traveller refused to back down. They argued the whole night.
When the traveller exited his friend's apartment at dawn, he left on his own.