All my wars were for her

"Kings are not born—they are forged from innocent souls."

As the servants laid out breakfast before the King and Queen, Hana stood silently beside them. Queen Agony picked up her fork, took the first bite—and her eyes widened in surprise. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand and said,

"This… this is delicious. No—this might be the best meal I've ever had."

Hana bowed her head humbly.

"I'm glad you liked it, my Queen."

Taking another bite, the Queen savored the taste and asked,

"By the way, what is this dish called?"

"It's called pie," Hana replied. "It's famous where I come from."

"A pie, hmm." Queen Agony paused thoughtfully. "I'd love to taste more of your regional dishes."

"I'll keep that in mind, Your Majesty," said Hana with a slight bow.

Still focused on her meal, the Queen gave a small nod.

"Very well. You may go now."

Hana bowed again and quietly exited the room. Her steps were slow as she made her way back to the kitchen. But as she arrived, she noticed something strange—Acasia was missing. So was Mork.

A wave of dread swept through her chest.

Her heart began to pound. Panic rising, she turned and ran toward her room. She flung the door open—empty. Without stopping, she dashed through the corridors of the palace, searching every corner. Then, as she passed the main hall, she heard something—laughter.

She slowed down and gently creaked open the heavy door.

Inside, she saw Acasia, wrapped in a white cloth, perched on Mork's shoulders. He was playfully chasing the ogre servants around the hall while Acasia giggled uncontrollably.

Hana froze in the doorway. Her breath caught in her throat, but slowly, the fear melted into relief. A soft smile spread across her face—one that reached her eyes. She stood there silently, watching. In that moment, it felt like a dream: her daughter being accepted, not as an outsider, but as one of their own.

Just then, Lana approached from behind and said quietly,

"Looks like Lord Mork finally found a friend."

Hana glanced at her, then looked back toward Mork and Acasia, her smile lingering.

Suddenly, Acasia's laughter faded. She began rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. Mork stopped and looked up to see why she'd gone quiet.

One of the ogre servants stepped forward and gently lifted Acasia off his shoulders. Within seconds, she had fallen asleep in the servant's arms.

The servant gazed at the sleeping child for a long moment before noticing Hana at the door. She walked over and softly said,

"She's asleep."

Hana gently took Acasia from her.

"She must be tired," she whispered.

Mork followed behind as Hana returned to her room. She laid Acasia down on the bed and tucked her in. Mork gripped the edge of the mattress and lifted himself slightly to peek at her face.

"When can I play with her again?" he asked.

"As soon as she wakes up, my Lord," Hana replied with a gentle smile.

Mork stepped back and tried to sound mature.

"Very well, then. I'll come back to play later."

But his tone, despite the effort, still carried the innocence of a child.

Hana watched him leave, and as soon as the door shut behind him, she covered her mouth and let out a soft giggle.

---

Time passed.

Hana settled into her new life with ease. Queen Agony adored her cooking. The halls echoed with the laughter of Mork and Acasia. Two years passed, filled with warmth and joy.

But nothing good lasts forever.

Now four years old, Mork had reached the age when, by ogre tradition, he was to be sent away from the castle. It was time for him to begin training under the Generals—to learn warfare, tactics, and the qualities required of a future king.

The day of his departure arrived.

Queen Agony entered Mork's room and found him standing in front of the mirror, trying to adjust his clothes. She walked over, knelt down, and helped straighten his tunic. Cupping his cheeks in her hands, she asked gently,

"Why are you sad, my son? Is something bothering you?"

"Where am I going?" Mork asked quietly. "Can't I stay here with everyone? I don't want to leave."

Queen Agony smiled tenderly.

"You're going to the Citadel. It's where our soldiers are trained. There, you'll learn how to be a leader, a warrior—and above all, a protector. One day, you'll be king, Mork. You must be prepared, because your people will depend on you."

Mork lowered his gaze and gave a small nod.

The Queen kissed his forehead.

"Come now. Your father is waiting."

They walked together toward the palace gates. King Draganov stood tall in his armor, waiting. The servants had lined up to bid farewell to their young prince.

As Mork approached, Draganov knelt down and embraced him tightly. Then he pulled back, held Mork by the shoulders, and said,

"I'm proud of you, my son. One day, you'll become a great king—maybe even greater than me."

"Even greater than you?" Mork asked, eyes wide.

Draganov chuckled softly.

"Yes. Even greater than me."

Mork's face lit up with a smile. His eyes gleamed with hope.

"It's time to go, my son," Draganov said as he stood aside.

Behind him, a royal carriage waited.

Mork took a deep breath and stepped toward it. But just before he climbed in, he turned to look back. His eyes scanned the line of servants until they landed on a familiar face.

Acasia stood beside her mother, waving with her tiny hand.

Mork smiled at her—and then stepped into the carriage.

The horses began to move.

And thus, the young prince was on his way to the Citadel—a place that would shape him, mold him, and prepare him for the trials that lay ahead.

He left as a child prince—but what awaited him at the Citadel would decide if he'd return as a king.