Kingdom Building Game: Starting Out With A Million Upgrade Points! - Chapter 70

Chapter 70: Threads Of The Past, Embers Of The Future
Arkanos stepped into his chambers, the door closing softly behind him. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected.

Illena and Sephira stood near his bed, their voices raised in argument. They both paused as his presence filled the room.

Sephira, was the first to speak. “You have returned, my Emperor. How did your talk with Kaela go?”

Arkanos sighed, his gaze lowering momentarily as he spoke. “Short. It seems I truly did a great deal to hurt her in the past. Whatever my actions were, it appears to weigh heavily on her heart.”

Illena folded her hands beneath her bust, her voice calm yet firm. “That aside my Emperor. I thought we agreed tonight was meant for us. Why is Sephira here?”

Sephira’s gaze sharpened as she spoke in an assertive tone. “And why do you think you hold the right to keep the Emperor to yourself, Illena?”

Illena opened her mouth to retort, but Arkanos raised his hand, silencing the argument.

“As the ancients say, two is better than one. Illena, my darling, are you trying to limit my options? Is it not my duty as Emperor to love my wives?”

Illena hesitated, her expression softening reluctantly as she murmured, “Yes, Your Majesty. But tonight was meant to be… Just the two of us—”

“Enough of this,” Arkanos interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “The night is still young. Rather than argue, prepare yourselves. Do you intend to serve your Emperor while dressed as such?”

Both women blushed deeply, their pride forcing them to avert their eyes, though they dared not speak further. Arkanos took a step toward them, his expression softening as he placed a hand on each of their shoulders.

“My loves,” he began, his voice rich with affection. “Tonight, let us set aside everything else. Let us simply enjoy the company of one another.”

…

The first rays of dawn filtered through the massive windows of Arkanos’s chamber, casting a warm glow on the grand bed where the Emperor and his wives lay.

Illena and Sephira, who slept soundly beside him, had their lower body covered henith the sheets both their hands placed atop his chest. Yet, despite the peaceful… Beautiful morning, Arkanos’s mind was far from at ease.

His green eyes stared at the ceiling as Kaela’s words echoed in his mind:

“If you truly loved me,” she had said, her back turned to him, “you would’ve remembered. But if I have to be the one to remind you… then maybe I should just leave.”

Her words were filled with pain.

Arkanos furrowed his brow, silently wondering what promise he had failed to keep. By the bitterness in her voice, it must have been something important—a cornerstone of their shared past.

Perhaps, in his arrogance or ambition, he had overlooked it. Perhaps that was why she had grown so distant.

He sighed, then shifted to sit up. As he did, Illena stirred beside him.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked at him drowsily before offering a soft yawn.

“Where are you going, my love?”

Arkanos glanced back at her with a small smile. “A new day has begun, my love. I must attend to my duties.”

Illena hummed softly, sinking back into the pillows as sleep reclaimed her. With that, Arkanos rose from the bed.

—

A team of maids awaited him in the dressing chambers. Their bows were precise, their movements choreographed as they began preparing him for the day.

Lirael, the head maid, stood apart for a moment before stepping forward to take charge.

First, a layer of a silk shirt was draped over his shoulders, the black fabric embroidered with gold patterns resembling dragons in flight. Another maid stepped forward, securing the high-collared undershirt around his neck with polished obsidian buttons.

The fabric clung to his body, highlighting his broad shoulders and lean muscular frame.

Lirael herself smoothed the golden sash that wrapped around his waist. Over the sash, a fitted black coat was placed, its long tails cascading down to his knees. Its cuffs were lined with gold thread, shimmering faintly in the morning light. Lirael adjusted the coat’s collar, ensuring its sharp angles framed his face.

As the maids worked in silence, Arkanos spoke. “Lirael, do you remember any promises I might have made to Lady Kaela that could explain her… unhappiness with me?”

Lirael’s pale blue eyes flickered up briefly, her expression as impassive as ever. “You make a great many promises, Your Majesty, most of which you fail to fulfill. You will have to be more specific.”

Arkanos chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Such slander, Lirael. You are quite the bold one.”

She tilted her head slightly, unperturbed. “I have served you since you were a boy, Your Majesty. Have you forgotten? I taught you much of what you know. Though, admittedly, you were never a particularly bright learner, nor were you really adept in the matters of the hearts of women.”

Arkanos sighed, a faint smile on his lips. “You wound me, Lirael. But I am serious—something important. Something that would explain why Kaela holds such anger toward me. Any ideas?”

Lirael straightened his cuffs before stepping back to assess her work. She gestured to another maid, who approached with the Emperor’s cape—a heavy black fabric lined with gold trim and with the imperial crest. Lirael then fastened it at his shoulders.

When the cape was secured, she finally replied, “If it is as you describe, Your Majesty, you may need to consult Lady Kaela’s head maid. Matters of the heart and memory are beyond my expertise.”

Arkanos studied her for a moment, then inclined his head. “Perhaps you are right. I’ll have to pursue this further. Thank you, Lirael.”

She bowed deeply, her voice as neutral as ever. “It is my duty, Your Majesty.”

Fully dressed, Arkanos strode from the dressing chamber, his mind still preoccupied with the mystery surrounding Kaela’s words.

….

The heat of the Dwarven Blacksmith Forge was intense, the air filled with the scent of molten metal and coal smoke.

The rhythmic clang of hammers striking anvils echoed throughout the cavernous workshop.

At the heart of the forge stood a massive stone table, its surface cluttered with blueprints, schematics, and tools.

Among the chaos, Arkanos stood tall, across the table from him was Grundar Ironmaul, the head of the forge.

The dwarf was stout and powerful, with a braided beard streaked with ash smudging his weathered face. His leather apron was scorched in places, and his calloused hands rested on the edges of the blueprints as he carefully studied them.

Arkanos gestured toward the detailed schematics spread out before them.

The blueprints depicted the design of a steam engine, the heart of the train that was to revolutionize transportation within the empire.

Every gear, valve, and piston was perfectly drawn with precise measurements and calculations.

“Grundar,” Arkanos called softly, “the success of this project depends on your forge’s skill. The engine must be flawless. Any failure could derail not just the train but the very vision I’ve set for the empire’s future.”

Grundar grunted, his sharp eyes scanning the designs. “Aye, it’s a fine piece of engineering, I’ll give ye that. But makin’ it a reality is another matter. The alloy ye’re askin’ for—lightweight, heat-resistant, durable—it won’t be easy to forge. We’ll need mithril and steel, and gettin’ that balance just right is a delicate business.”

Arkanos nodded, leaning over the table to point at a section of the blueprint. “The pressure system here…”

“…must handle extreme heat and force without risking a rupture. That’s where the mithril’s properties will be critical. I trust your expertise to ensure it’s forged to perfection.”

Grundar straightened, folding his arms across his broad chest. “And what of the boiler?” he asked.

“It’s the heart o’ the engine, and from what I’m seein’ here, ye’re wantin’ somethin’ compact but powerful. That’ll take precision craftsmanship, not just brute force.”

Arkanos smiled faintly. “That is why I came to you, Grundar. I’ve already seen what your forge can accomplish. I have no doubt that you and your craftsmen are up to the task.”

The dwarf huffed, though there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes. “Flattery won’t make it any easier, but I’ll see to it myself. Still, we’ll need more than just materials and schematics. This kind o’ work requires time—and coin.”

“Both will be provided,” Arkanos assured him. “The empire will spare no expense to see this project completed.”

Grundar nodded, his fingers tracing the blueprint’s lines one final time. “Then consider it done, Your Majesty. But don’t expect miracles overnight.”

Arkanos chuckled softly. “I never do, Grundar. Only results.”

With that, the two shook hands—a solemn pact between ruler and craftsman.

As Grundar barked orders to his workers, Arkanos took a step back, his gaze lingering on the blueprints.

The train represented more than just technological advancement; it was a symbol of progress, a proof of the empire’s future.

And Arkanos would see it realized, no matter the challenges ahead.