Xander observed this woman closely. From the moment she entered the room, his eyes had not left her.
A middle-aged woman with blonde hair packed into a neat bun at the back—held by two long golden hairpins.
Xander would not call her beautiful. At least nothing like Alex’s stepsister, Linda.
But she made up for it with incredible presence.
A carriage displayed not just in composure, but in how her gaze gave the world the subconscious feeling that all underneath the sun was below her.
Even a mere observer like Xander felt it.
The Queen Mother, Rosaline.
Rosaline was dressed in a royal-red, long, flowing red gown, heavy jewelry around the neck, and long ruby earrings.
Xander did not know how he knew, but just looking at her, he understood something.
She was celebrating.
She only wore red—her favorite color—when she was in a great mood.
And the heavy jewelry was further proof of this point.
"Mother! Mother!!" Alex hurried—stumbling on the mess he had made—to grab the hem of her garment. "Please, you have to help me. They are trying to deny me the throne. Mother, your only—"
SLAP!!!
"Who the hell is your mother!?" The slap landed with practiced accuracy.
THUD.
Alex fell back, puzzled.
For the longest time in his life, his mother had always been cold and distant to him.
So distant that Alex used to order the maids to cuddle him to sleep after seeing them do the same to their lowborn children.
That was the only way he managed to find some form of motherly comfort.
However, even at that, she never raised her hand on him—until now.
"I never gave birth to such gutter nonsense."
"What?!" Alex grabbed his still stinging face; he could not comprehend her words.
Rosaline saw the confusion in his eyes. "Oh, yes. You never knew.
Of course, you couldn’t. I hid it well for years..." She took a step and then another as she walked around him.
"...I hid it so well that I had to kill Catherine’s head maid."
"Catherine... Father’s useless concubine!?" Alex whispered.
That’s what Rosaline always called her, and he imitated her.
"You mean your useless mother," Rosaline corrected.
Alex’s eyes widened in shock. "Mother... what are you say—?"
SLAP!
"I said to never call me that."
The slaps stung. But now, Alex was even more confused.
"Seeing as you are about to die tomorrow, I don’t mind telling you the truth."
And then Rosaline spilled the beans.
It so turned out that sixteen years ago, an unforeseen incident had occurred in the delivery room.
The queen mother, Rosaline, had given birth to a child—a stillbirth.
This was unprecedented. She had wanted a child for so long and had gone through some heavy means to finally have one.
After all, if she did not, then one of Polymer’s other children from his concubines would inherit the throne.
No doubt, a life worse than death was waiting for her if that happened.
Luckily for her, another woman—a young inexperienced concubine—was at the time also in labor.
It was Catherine. She had also borne a son.
In her desperation, Rosaline had the children secretly switched.
What she did not expect was that by some miracle, when Catherine held the dead child (her child), he began breathing again.
Meaning that Rosaline’s real child had somehow come back to life.
Unfortunately, Rosaline could no longer do another switch with the maids she secretly had around the palace.
The clergymen from the church had arrived and placed it on record.
Alex, black of hair, son of Queen Rosaline and King Polymer.
David, gold of hair, son of Concubine Catherine and King Polymer.
The shock of the revelation rang through Alex’s entire being.
It made his mind freeze.
Everything she said after was a bland echo ringing at the back of his mind.
Even Rosaline could clearly see that she had done significant psychological damage.
Nothing broke a young man more than knowing his mother was not his on the eve of his execution.
Rosaline took one more look at him—just kneeling on the ground.
She turned and, with soft, confident steps, left the room.
It would be another two hours before Alex was able to come to his senses.
And when he did, it was even worse.
He lay on the ground, knees tight to his chest as he hummed softly.
It was a song Alex could never remember the lyrics to but found comfort in anyways.
He suddenly remembered how the others would check their profession profile.
He waved a hand.
And a system screen appeared in red.
[Profession System]
[Name: Alex of House Canvas]
[Profession: Villainy]
[⚠️Caution: Profession is inactive. Requirements for active Profession have not been met...]
Xander remembered the system notification he heard at the moment of his death.
Could it be that...?
Just then, he heard whispers from outside his room.
Haven’t you heard? King Polymer has made a decision on the future king." The maid spoke silently to her mate.
"Really?"
"Yes... apparently one of his sons got the ’king’ profession."
Alex’s eyes widened at those words. ’He gave my position to someone else?’
This ignited a newfound rage in Alex’s heart, and he stormed out of the room.
Even Xander, watching, could tell that things were about to go south—fast.
Alex rushed out of his room. The maids were stunned to see him. A part of that surprise was because of his terrible appearance: hair undone, clothes in shambles, and the obvious dried scars of tears and mucus.
"Where is he? Where is my father?" he demanded.
The frightened maids simply pointed.
That direction.
The throne room.
Alex marched there.
The throne room was a secluded space, gated from the rest of the palace by two huge mahogany doors.
In front were two six-foot-tall knights in neat, shiny silver armor.
They stood one on each side with spears a foot longer than their lengths.
Just as Alex was about to enter, their spears leaned forward. "Negative professions are not allowed in the presence of the monarchy."
Alex paused, irritation flickering in his eyes at the sight.
"How dare you raise your weapon at me? Do you know who I am? I am prince Alex, Crowned prince of—"
"Former Crown Prince." One of the knights corrected.
"How dare you say that? Once I see my father, I’ll have you hanged at the gallows," Alex spat.
"Oh, like you would tomorrow." The knight gave a knowing smile.
This tied Alex’s tongue.
"What’s going on here?" A familiar voice questioned.
Immediately, the knights straightened up.
"Crowned Prince..." one of the knights coughed, saluting with a fist to the chest.
Alex heard clearly. He turned to the familiar voice.
David.
His half brother.