Chapter 8: Ragan’s Approval

Chapter 8 - Ragan's ApprovalThe corners of Ragan's mouth twitched, and blue veins bulged on his forehead. His breathing grew heavy—like a bull ready to charge at anyone in front of him. But when he remembered the troublemaker was his own son, he could only suppress his rage with a deep breath. After calming down a little, he clenched his jaw and shot a glare at his disobedient son. "How can you be so disrespectful to me? Was the punishment I gave you not enough?" he asked coldly. A faint, chilling smile tugged at his lips. "Or... are you asking for something harsher? Fine, I'll cut your allowance—" Before he could finish, Nolan rushed forward and stopped him. "Wait, Father! Please don't say that! I'm sorry! I swear I won't do it again!" His handsome face turned pale. He hadn't expected his father to go that far. Having his allowance cut by fifty percent was already harsh—but losing it entirely? That felt like being skinned alive. It was nothing short of a death sentence. The mere thought of living without money made his skin crawl and his hair stand on end. What kind of prince doesn't have an allowance? If people found out, they'd surely start calling him the "poor prince." He already had enough bad nicknames—but that one was simply unacceptable. Ragan's smile widened, clearly satisfied with Nolan's reaction. He crossed one leg over the other, his gaze never leaving his son. "Alright, forget it," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "Now tell me—why are you here? Are you still trying to push that ridiculous appeal to withdraw from the line of succession? If so, don't expect me to approve it." Nolan rolled his eyes, then sat down in the chair beside him, stretching out with casual confidence. "No, Father. That's not why I came," he replied lightly, crossing his legs and leaning back like he owned the room. His relaxed, almost arrogant posture made Ragan's eye twitch. If Nolan hadn't been his son, he would've thrown out anyone who dared to act like that in front of him. "Then what did you come for?" Ragan raised both eyebrows, suspicion flickering in his eyes. Nolan straightened up and put on a rare, serious expression. "Father, I want my position in the succession to be given to my sister, Elina." His words immediately froze the air between them. Ragan's body jolted, and his face turned as red as a chili pepper. But before he could erupt, Nolan quickly tried to calm him down. "Wait, Father. Don't get angry yet—just hear me out first." Ragan took a deep breath, but the anger was still written all over his face. He had lost count of how many times this damn boy had pushed his buttons today. If there were a list of the world's most disobedient children, he was certain Nolan would top it. Meanwhile, Nolan—unaware that he'd just been crowned the most rebellious son by his own father—kept smiling. "So, Father, here's my plan..." He began explaining everything openly, without hiding a single detail. Ragan listened carefully, though his forehead creased and his brows remained tightly knit. Only when Nolan finished did he speak. "So you're saying Elina will take your place in the succession... while you support her from behind the scenes?" Nolan gave a small nod. "Yeah, something like that, Father. What do you think? Can you approve it? After all, Elina and I are twins. It doesn't really matter which of us stands at the front." On the surface, it might have seemed like it made no difference who stepped forward in the succession. But in reality, the difference was stark. If Nolan took the lead, he would have to openly battle his siblings for the throne. He'd also be forced to deal with the noble families, follow rigid protocols, and surrender his freedom. But if Elina stood at the forefront, he could move freely in the background—unbound by rules, unseen, and able to quietly steer her path to victory. With that strategy, he was confident he could outmaneuver all his siblings and make Elina—his beloved sister—the first empress in the history of the Great Velmora Empire. After that, he could enjoy a carefree life, free from the burdens of imperial affairs. With his beloved little sister managing everything, what more could he possibly worry about? Just as Nolan's nerves were beginning to fray under the pressure, Ragan—who had remained silent all this time—finally let out a long sigh. "I..." He was just about to speak when Nolan suddenly sprang to his feet and dropped to his knees. "Father, please accept my request! I truly don't want to take part in this succession!" Ragan: "..." He hadn't even managed to say a single word, yet this brat had already knelt before him like some tragic hero. If not for the pounding in his temples, he might have thought he was trapped in a bizarre dream. "Huh..." With another long sigh, Ragan waved his right hand. "Don't kneel like that. Get up." But Nolan ignored him and insisted, "I won't stand until Father gives his approval." "Who said I don't approve?" Ragan muttered with a frown. Nolan's eyes widened in disbelief. He lifted his head to stare at his father. "You're serious, old man—I mean, Father? You're really agreeing to this?" His voice was filled with stunned amazement. He had expected rejection. The last thing he thought was that the old man would actually say yes! At the slip of the tongue—calling him "old man"—Ragan's breath hitched, but he quickly regained his composure. "Do you think I'm joking about this?" Ragan replied, his tone calm but firm. "I do have one condition, though." Nolan swallowed hard and slowly stood up before taking his seat again. "What's the condition?" he asked, curious but cautious. Ragan closed his eyes briefly, then opened them with a sharp gaze. "I want you to support Elina no matter what—no matter the circumstances. Even if it costs you your life, you must protect your sister. Can you swear that to me?" His eyes narrowed, a quiet intensity behind them. Nolan froze for a moment. He had expected something more burdensome—but this? Still, he knew better than to take it lightly. His expression grew solemn as he nodded. "Don't worry, Father. Even if you didn't ask, I'd still do it," he said with quiet conviction. Elina was his most precious sister. If not him, then who else would protect her? Ragan gave a simple nod. "Alright, I trust you. Now, return to your room. I'll inform your siblings to avoid any misunderstandings. You'll all receive a special letter with further details about the succession." "Yes, Father." Nolan nodded, then respectfully cupped his hands and bowed his head. "With your permission, I'll take my leave." Ragan waved his hand dismissively, already turning his focus back to the stack of documents on his desk. Once Nolan had left, Ragan leaned back in his chair. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Hah... That brat's more clever than I thought. I didn't expect him to take this route," he murmured, shaking his head in amusement. A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes as he added, "This succession... is going to be very entertaining."