Yeah I'm a King, so what?

Ancient Gold

"Welcome. Welcome to Miranda General Store."

As soon as I opened the door, the staff bowed in unison, a coordinated greeting that spoke of training and discipline.

The store was nothing like the street stalls outside. Polished wood shelves displayed fine cloth, ornate jewelry behind glass cases, leather-bound books, and tools crafted with obvious care. Price tags hung in silver, with some items reaching into gold territory.

A young attendant approached, bowing slightly. "Excuse me, sir, but I'll need to hold your weapons while you shop."

Standard procedure. I handed over my bardiche without complaint. The boy's eyes widened as he took it. The weight caught him off guard, he staggered, barely keeping his grip, then wrestled it into a weapons rack with obvious effort. I almost smiled.

"Welcome, sir." A clerk appeared with practiced warmth, though his eyes assessed me carefully a young face, road-worn appearance, but quality armor and the confidence of someone carrying coin. "What brings you to Miranda's today?"

"I need to exchange currency."

A flicker of disappointment crossed his face. Money-changers brought no profit, just service fees. But he recovered smoothly.

"Of course. Please, follow me."

He led me to a table in the back, set up like an appraiser's station. Scales, magnifying lenses, reference books showing coin designs and royal crests from various kingdoms.

"How much would you like to exchange?"

"Five gold coins for silver."

Practical. Silver was easier to spend on daily needs, and I didn't like the jingle of loose coin announcing my wealth.

"Understood. I'll verify authenticity first, if you don't mind."

Standard practice. He weighed each coin against Federal standards, held them to candlelight to examine engravings, checked the milling on edges. Gold coin standards were universal across most kingdoms, weight and purity mattered more than whose face was stamped on them. Then he froze. His fingers stopped on one particular coin. He stared at it, brow furrowing, then grabbed a thick reference book and began flipping pages. Forward, backward, checking illustrations of various royal crests. Nothing matched.

"I apologize, sir. Please wait one moment."

He disappeared into the back. I tensed. If they thought these were counterfeit, this could get ugly. And I couldn't exactly explain that a five-hundred-year-old vampire had given them to me as parting gifts.But it wasn't guards who emerged, it was a well-dressed middle-aged man with intelligent, sharp eyes and the bearing of someone who'd built success through cleverness rather than birthright.

"My apologies for the delay." He bowed slightly. "I am Ogil Miranda, proprietor of this establishment. Your coins have presented... an unusual situation."

He set the gold coin on the table carefully, handling it through cloth to avoid fingerprints.

"May I ask where you acquired this?"

No good answer came to mind except a version of the truth. "I found it in Thornveil Forest."

Not technically a lie. Ogil's eyebrows rose. "You survived the Demon Forest?" Respect colored his tone. "That explains much. This coin is quite remarkable."

He gestured for me to sit, his demeanor shifting from merchant to scholar.

"This is currency from a kingdom destroyed nearly four centuries ago."

My pulse quickened, though I kept my expression neutral.

"There was once a great kingdom whose capital stood where Thornveil Forest grows now. It ruled vast territories, what are now Valmere, Norbury, and several smaller nations were all part of its domain. This coin bears its royal crest."

Four hundred years. When Celeste would have been...

"The gold ratio matches modern Federal standard," Ogil continued, turning the coin in the light. "Which proves even then, they practiced standardized minting. But the crest is unknown to most living merchants or clerks. They'd mistake it for counterfeit."

He looked at it with something like reverence.

"My grandfather collected historical currency. He owned one of these...damaged, half-melted from the fires that consumed the kingdom. But he treasured it. Called it a remnant of a golden age lost to war and ruin."

Ogil's smile was wry. "And here you present one in perfect condition, as if minted yesterday."

"So I can't use them?"

"Not safely, no. Most would reject them as fake." He leaned forward, merchant instincts returning. "Which is why I'd like to make an offer. Ten royal gold coins for each of these antique pieces. To a collector, they're worth far more than their weight."

I checked my coin purse discreetly. Nine more bore the same ancient crest. Nearly half of what Celeste had given me. Where had she gotten them? Had she simply... kept them? For four centuries? A treasury from her lost kingdom, hidden away in that forest house?

"I appreciate the offer," I said carefully. "But I'll exchange just the five regular coins today. These..." I touched one of the ancient pieces. "These I'll keep."

Ogil studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Sentiment or speculation?"

"Both."

"A wise answer." He smiled. "If you ever reconsider, bring them to me first. I'll pay fairly,more than fairly."

"Agreed."

"Then as thanks for letting me examine such a piece of history, I'll waive the usual ten percent exchange f*e."

We shook hands. His grip was firm, businesslike.

"Five gold exchanged for fifty kingdom silver. And sir, if you decide to sell, remember Miranda's first."

"I will."

I collected my bardiche, the attendant practically shoved it at me to avoid another near-disaster and paused at the door.

"One more thing. What was the kingdom called?"

Ogil's expression grew distant, thoughtful. "Historical records from that era are scarce. Most were destroyed in the wars that followed. But scholars who study such things believe it was called..."

He met my eyes.

"The Kingdom of Yuktovania."

The name hit me like a blade between the ribs. 'Celeste Yuktovania.'

No coincidence could be this absolute. The forest. The coins. Her name. She hadn't just lived through a kingdom's fall. She'd been that kingdom. Royalty. A queen, perhaps. Or a princess who watched her world burn and survived into legend. I should have felt shock. Awe. Fear, maybe. Instead, I felt challenged. A beautiful woman. A vampire who'd lived five centuries. And royalty from a lost golden age. If that wasn't worth fighting for, nothing was. I would become more than a mercenary. More than a sellsword scraping by. I would build a kingdom of my own. Reclaim the land where Yuktovania once stood. And then, no matter how long it took, I would return for her. She didn't age. Time was irrelevant. I would make her mine. But first: a bath, a bed, and a plan. One step at a time.