Beyond the Throne: The Monarch's Return

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the door of the annex. Ian lowered the bed sheet he was arranging, confused.

Who could it be?

This was unexpected. In the future he had lived through, no one had ever come to this place—at least not until nightfall. The door creaked open, revealing an unfamiliar face.

"Pardon the intrusion. I'm here to help."

Ian's eyes widened in surprise. It was a servant, the same one who had stood beside the head butler earlier in the audience chamber. Ian's brows furrowed.

Strange.

Knowing the Duke and the head butler, there's no way they would send a servant to help me. That's just not their nature.

The servant, with a smug smile on his face, glanced at Ian, covered in dust from cleaning.

"I knew it. You're struggling on your own."

In truth, this servant was no ordinary one—he was an assassin sent to kill Ian. He had infiltrated Duke Garcia's fortress long ago, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The assassin's mission was simple: eliminate the boy Duke Garcia had brought into his home, no matter if he was truly of royal blood or not. The prince, or potential heir, would undoubtedly stir chaos in the already tense succession war.

Before the King and the royal family discover this child's existence…

He had to strike.

Ian's current state seemed ideal for the assassin to approach, gain his trust, and finish the job without suspicion. After all, the Duke's knights were preoccupied with training, and Ian was alone in the annex.

The assassin felt confident, clutching the poison hidden in his palm. It was colorless, odorless—perfectly designed for silent kills.

However, Ian glanced up, looking unaffected by the intrusion.

"I don't need help, actually. I've already finished cleaning."

"What?" The assassin was shocked, expecting Ian to be bluffing. But when he looked around, the annex gleamed, completely transformed from the dusty state it had been in before.

"How?"

Ian replied calmly. "The knights helped me. I asked them. They didn't mind since I'm just a child."

The assassin froze. The knights helped? That didn't seem right. Those proud warriors, cleaning? Impossible.

Ian moved toward the door. "You should leave now. I don't need your help."

The assassin, now panicking, tried to insist.

"No, no! The knights asked me to assist you. I'll just finish up."

But Ian didn't listen, and the assassin grew desperate. Ian had seen through him already.

He recognized the assassin's face from his traumatic past—one he could never forget. This man had been sent by Duke Lavaltor, a rival of Duke Garcia and a powerful noble in the kingdom.

Though the Duke had saved Ian's life, the damage Lavaltor's men had caused was immeasurable. Still, Ian had no desire for revenge, not now.

Instead, he decided to dismiss the assassin, knowing full well that this man would return under the cover of night to finish the job.

"Get out," Ian ordered. The assassin trembled, knowing that time was running out.

"Wait!" the assassin called, trying to buy time. "I've brought something from the Duke."

Ian frowned. "From the Duke?"

Just as the assassin prepared to strike, an angry voice rang out from behind him.

"Really? They're sending you now? After ignoring us all this time? Ridiculous!"

Before the assassin could react, someone grabbed him roughly by the collar. It was Nathan, fuming with anger.

"The place is already cleaned, so you can go," Nathan sneered, noticing the assassin's attempt to twist free. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

The assassin cursed internally. Damn it. I reacted without thinking.

Nathan's grip tightened. "You—"

But before he could finish, Galon, another knight, appeared.

"What's going on, Nathan?"

The assassin paled. Why are they still here? They were supposed to be at the training ground!

Feigning submission, the assassin bowed. "I apologize, I'll leave at once."

Nathan, still suspicious, let go of the assassin. As soon as he did, Nathan's fist smashed into the assassin's cheek.

"Now you can go."

Nathan slammed the door shut, leaving the assassin outside, seething with humiliation. But as he was about to leave, the door opened again. Ian stepped out, smiling brightly.

"Oh, one more thing—please take this with you."

Ian shoved a tray of food scraps into the assassin's hands before slamming the door in his face once more. The assassin's eyes burned with rage.

I will kill this brat tonight.

At that moment, a voice echoed from above the terrace. "What a bunch of amusing fools."

A young man watched the scene unfold from a tree, his silver hair gleaming in the moonlight. His cold eyes contradicted the smile on his face, resembling a younger version of the Duke.

Later that evening, at 9 p.m., the assassin prepared for his mission. After shedding his servant disguise, he slipped into his assassin's garb and crept out of his quarters through a secret passage, heading for the annex.

His opportunity had arrived. The knights were all at the training grounds, and Ian was alone, vulnerable.

He moved stealthily through the annex, carefully climbing into the ceiling where he could watch Ian sleeping below, hugging a pillow.

Now's the time.

He lowered a thread attached to a jar of poison, intending to drip the lethal substance into Ian's mouth.

But just as he moved to release the poison—

Whoosh!

Something sharp flew toward his neck. Startled, the assassin shifted, and the ceiling beneath him gave way with a crash.

"Gotcha!"

Nathan's triumphant voice rang out as the assassin hit the ground. Galon stood beside him, sword drawn.

How are they here? They should be at the summons!

Nathan grinned. "I knew this would happen, so I kidnapped Galon."

The assassin scrambled backward, trying to escape, but before he could react, a sharp pain pierced his stomach.

Ian stood over him, eyes wide awake.

As the assassin gasped in pain, a crystal communication device tumbled from his hand.

[Have you dealt with the boy yet?] a voice crackled through the device, echoing in the silent room. The knights and Ian exchanged glances.

Ian smiled, his suspicions confirmed.

He wasn't sent by Duke Lavaltor after all. The real mastermind was someone else.