Chapter 25 — Journey to the Royal Capital 2

At the words "Number Four Crown Street," the faces of the reception official and several nearby inner-court officials changed involuntarily. Francis II had warned them, true, but they had never imagined that Gao Yang's request would take this direction!

That was the residence of Gao Yang Cecil in the royal capital seven hundred years ago.

Though Gao Yang Cecil was Duke of the Southern March and spent most of his time on his southern fief, he—like the other pioneers of his era—had possessed a dwelling of his own in the royal capital. These were mansions built by Charles I, the founding sovereign, for each of the first pioneer knights, and all of them stood on Crown Street, in the district nearest the Silver Bastion.

Whenever the pioneers came from their fiefs to the capital to deliberate on matters of state, they lodged in their own mansions—such was the rule in those days.

Seven hundred years had passed; all the pioneers (save a certain one who had just clawed his way out of the grave) were long dead, yet every mansion on Crown Street still kept the appearance of those days. The royal house still funded their continual renovation and repair throughout these seven hundred years, ensuring they would endure forever.

They had in truth become living fossils—except that these living fossils still had occupants: the descendants of the various pioneers yet lived, and all had inherited their ancestors' legacies.

All but the Cecil family. Ever since a certain preternaturally gifted Grumman Cecil appeared in those years, Number Four Crown Street had been confiscated by the crown for a hundred years...

"Number Four Crown Street..." the reception official stammered. "It is indeed still there, though it has been fully renovated many times..."

"Oh, naturally—it is only a mansion, after all, not so sturdy as a castle," Gao Yang said with a smile. "But since it has been renovated, that means it is presently well kept? I should have no trouble moving in, surely?"

"Of course..." The reception official had meant to say he must first seek the king's decision, but upon seeing Gao Yang's faint, ambiguous smile, the words would not come. "But..."

"I know—it has been confiscated by the crown, correct?" Gao Yang, unwilling to put a mere errand-runner in too difficult a position, spoke up himself. "But I have also heard that no one lives there now. In fact, no one has moved in for a hundred years, has there?"

"Yes—after all, the late king left a great many... things there. No one dares carry them off, and to this day no one has been deemed worthy to inherit them, so Number Four Crown Street still stands empty."

Gao Yang went on smiling. "Since there's no heir, then surely there's no problem with me spending a night under my own roof?"

"Of course, of course," the receiving official said, recalling the orders the king's attendant had passed to him, and he had no choice but to nod. "Then please wait a moment, my lord. I will lead the way at once..."

"No need. I still remember the road to my own house." Gao Yang waved a hand. "Just go back and tell the king that I will call on him at Silverkeep at noon tomorrow, punctual as promised."

With that he turned his horse's head and, before leaving, gave Rebecca's head a pat. "Silly child. Come along."

Only then did Rebecca snap to attention. "Eh? Ancestor Yanren, aren't we staying in the palace today?"

"What's so fine about a palace? Back when it was being built, I told Charlie to his face that the ground he'd chosen was no good—and sure enough, in the third year after it went up, a great crack split the roof. Come on, I'll take you to where I used to live. Now that was a proper home."

Watching Gao Cenxing walk off without a care, the receiving official felt the cold sweat that had long been gathering on his brow finally run down. Then he seized hold of the man beside him. "Quick—send a druid who can turn into a bird! To Number Four Crown Street—tell them to make ready at once!"