A few days before Luna and Mark arrived in the kingdom, something unexpected happened.

Prince Jack was summoned to the palace by order of his own father, the Grand Beast Lord.

The man who had spent years avoiding his children like a plague, to the point of not having seen them in person for years, suddenly called him in for a private meeting.

Jack attended, of course.

Not because he wanted to, but because he had no other choice.

But the scene he found upon arriving was nothing short of pitiful.

The great king, that legendary warrior whose name made entire kingdoms tremble, that colossus who in his youth had crushed his enemies with his own bare hands, now lay bedridden in an enormous bed.

Gaunt, wasted away, barely able to move his body, his breathing ragged.

His father was gravely ill, and you didn’t have to be a healer to see he had very little time left.

Jack approached the bed with a calm stride, showing neither the urgency nor the concern a good son would have shown.

"Well, father," he said, looking him up and down. "How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I’m feeling, you idiot?" the king replied in a hoarse, raspy voice that still held some of its former edge. "Can’t you see? I’m rotting alive... But I suppose expecting perspicacity from you was asking for too much."

Prince Jack let out a small laugh, not offended in the slightest.

"As warm as ever, dad."

"Shut up and listen, I have neither the time nor the patience for your usual nonsense," the king continued.

He coughed, a wet, ugly sound, before going on.

"I’ve been watching you... you and your siblings... and let me tell you something, my son... out of the ten of you, there’s not a single one worth a shit... You are each and every one of you one fucking disappointment after another."

"You’re so hard on us, old man," Jack commented in a casual tone, walking over to a wine pitcher on a nearby table and pouring himself a glass without asking permission. "And you dragged me halfway across the capital for this? To tell me how much you love us?"

The king glared at him.

"You know what’s the most pathetic part of it all?" the beastman king said. "That out of all my children, the one who came closest to deserving this throne was your sister Luna"

"Huh? But that bitch is the worst of all of us," Jack said in surprise. "You’re definitely delirious already, you decrepit old bastard."

"That brat may be reckless, loud, and missing a screw or two, but... if she’d been born a man, I wouldn’t have hesitated for a second... I’d have chosen her over all of you without thinking twice."

"Hmm," Jack murmured, taking a sip from his glass.

"But ’what if’ doesn’t exist," the king continued, ignoring him. "So I have no choice but to settle for you..."

The king let out a sigh full of contempt.

"Out of all of you... you are definitely my greatest failure as a king... and as a father."

Jack raised an eyebrow, still drinking.

"Your greatest failure?" he repeated with a smile. "And here I thought that title was hotly contested."

"It is..." the king replied dryly. "But you earned it fair and square... You know why? Because you’re the only one of all of them who actually has the strength to govern, to bring the other clans into line, and to hold this kingdom of savages together..."

"Wow old man... you can really tell you’re about to die, you’ve never paid me this many compliments."

"And yet... you’re nothing more than a spineless idiot."

The king paused, looking at him with a disgust he didn’t even try to conceal.

"A pampered drunk who hides between his concubines’ skirts to drown his sorrows instead of doing something useful with the power he was given..."

"..."

"You have a king’s claws and the temperament of a spoiled pup... Just looking at you makes me want to cry."

Jack listened to all of it with incredible calm.

And when the king finished, he simply smiled, raised his glass slightly toward him in a kind of mocking toast.

"I love you too, old man."

The king stared at him fixedly.

Because that was precisely the problem with Jack. He was incapable of letting anything matter enough to hurt him.

And for the king, that was almost more unbearable than open insolence.

"...Fuck," the king muttered, shaking his head. "Are you even listening to what I’m telling you?"

"But of course I am, old man," Jack replied with a shrug. "You’ve been telling me the same thing a thousand different ways for years, at this point it’s like a lullaby... I’ve even grown fond of it."

The king let out a grunt of annoyance and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering strength to get to the point of it all.

"Fine... it doesn’t matter," he said finally. "My opinion of you doesn’t change the facts... You’re all I’ve got, and this kingdom needs an heir before I close my eyes for good... So listen carefully, you little bastard, because I won’t say it twice."

He opened his eyes again, and for an instant he recovered something of the authority that had made him a feared king.

"From today, we begin preparations for your coronation," the king declared. "You are going to be the next Grand Beast Lord."

"Yay."

"But I’m warning you, Jack..." His voice hardened. "Keep your damn mouth shut and behave until then."

"And why’s that?" Jack asked, confused.

"Your siblings, useless as they are, will be the pillars on which the new kingdom stands, and I’m not going to allow your stupidity to embarrass them or provoke a war between clans before you’ve even sat on the throne... Is that clear?"

Jack downed the rest of his glass in one go.

"Crystal clear, old man," the prince replied, setting the empty glass on the table. "Being honest, you’d already taken your sweet time acknowledging the obvious. I even started to think you’d die first just to avoid having to admit I was your best option."

And without waiting for a response or saying goodbye, Jack turned and walked toward the exit with his hands in his pockets, as carefree as when he had walked in.

The king watched him leave in silence.

And when the door finally closed behind his son, the Grand Beast Lord let his head fall back on the pillow and let out a long sigh, heavy with the weight of an entire lifetime.

"Ten children..." he murmured, staring at his bedroom ceiling. "And truly not a single one of them turned out to be even remotely useful for anything?"

The king coughed again, exhausted.

"If I’d known they were all going to turn out this useless," the old man grumbled, closing his eyes, "I’d have made the effort to have triple the number... Maybe by sheer luck one would have turned out decent... Nah... knowing my luck each one would have been worse than the last."

And with that final complaint floating in the room’s air, the old king surrendered himself to rest.

...

Back in the present, Princess Luna, along with Mark and the others, stood before the enormous palace doors.

And things were not going particularly well.

"What do you mean I can’t come in?" Luna exclaimed in disbelief, planted in front of the two guards who were manning the entrance. "I’m Princess Luna! Daughter of the Grand Beast Lord! I have every right to enter this palace whenever I damn well please!"

"We’re sorry, Princess," one of the guards replied without flinching. "But we have strict orders... Nobody enters the palace without prior authorization... No exceptions."

"Orders from whom?!" she shot back. "I need to speak with my father immediately! It’s urgent!"

"Our orders are clear," the guard repeated, though a slight sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead at the princess’s insistence. "If you wish an audience, you must request it through the appropriate channels and wait for approval."

"Appropriate channels?!" Luna was on the verge of exploding. "I’m from the damn royal family, not a peasant requesting an appointment!"

Mark, who had been watching the entire exchange in silence, leaned slightly toward her and spoke quietly.

"If you want, I can resolve this for you in under ten seconds," he said in a casual tone. "One word from me and Ely opens those doors, guards and all."

Luna thought about it for a second, clearly tempted.

But in the end she shook her head.

"As much as I’d love to kick both their asses, we can’t do that," she replied quietly. "If I enter my father’s palace leaving a trail of dead guards, I’d be handing Jack the perfect excuse to paint me as a traitor."

"Fair enough, but..." Mark replied with a shrug, "the offer still stands if you change your mind."

Luna turned back toward the guards, ready to keep arguing, threatening, begging if necessary.

But just then, a third guard came running from inside the palace.

He hurried over to the guard at the door Luna had been arguing with, and whispered something in his ear.

The door guard listened, and his expression changed completely.

He straightened up at once, exchanged a quick look with his companion, and then, without further ado, stepped to the side and cleared the entrance.

"You may enter, Princess," he said in a tone that had suddenly become much more obliging. "They are expecting you."

Luna was completely thrown off by the guards’ sudden change of attitude.

But she decided not to overthink it and entered the palace, with Mark and the others following close behind.

"...That was strange," Princess Luna murmured with a furrowed brow.