Restart:Untalented Man



The room gradually bathed in the warm embrace of morning sunlight, its gentle rays filtering through the curtains and painting patterns on the floor.

Riz's eyelids twitched in response to the subtle change, and he began to stir from his slumber.

As consciousness returned, he became aware of an odd sensation – half of his body felt almost paralyzed, trapped beneath a weight.

Blinking his eyes open, he turned his head slightly to find Theodora nestled against him. Her body was intimately close.

It was a scenario he had grown accustomed to over the past four months, yet every morning it still managed to catch him off guard.

He shifted carefully, disentangling himself from her grip without waking her.

Slowly, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and planted his feet on the floor.

With a satisfying stretch that spread warmth through his muscles, Riz embraced the familiar rituals of greeting the day.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a slight tension melt away, and then stood up, his body unfolding from its restful position.

Continuing his routine with practised efficiency, Riz quietly prepared himself for the day ahead, mindful not to disturb Theodora's slumber.

Once ready, he slipped out of the room without a sound, gently closing the door behind him.

The mansion still retained an air of tranquillity in the early morning hours.

Stepping outside, he found the weather today was agreeably mild.

A stately carriage stood poised at the front door, its presence a symbol of the day's planned activities.

Contemplating his options, he mused aloud, "You know what, I'm going to take a walk to the office today since the weather is so nice," his voice carrying a note of determination.

His words, though seemingly innocuous, held a weight of authority that those around him recognized.

The coachman, his loyal and concerned attendant, hesitated before voicing his apprehensions, "But Your Majesty, it's dangerous out there! Your safety is of utmost importance."

Unperturbed, he responded with a reassuring smile, "There's nothing to worry about, gramps. The entire hill is under guard, and the government complex is just at the foothill. It was also a well-protected area."

In the face of his resolute, the coachman's protest subsided, and a resigned nod conveyed his acceptance of the decision.

With that, the king stepped forward, embracing the outdoors and the opportunity for a leisurely walk amidst the splendour of the day.

As he neared the compound, the clamour of activity in the plaza became increasingly evident.

The early hours of the day seemed to have ignited a vibrant energy, as guards exchanged shifts and officials bustled about with purpose.

Approaching the heart of the complex, Riz's attention was captured by a group of builders making diligent preparations.

Their efforts were dedicated to setting the stage for an upcoming awards ceremony, an occasion to honour and recognize the soldiers who had valiantly fought in wars past.

The construction of a platform and the arrangement of seating bespoke the magnitude of the event they were orchestrating.

As the figure of the king emerged into their view, the workers were momentarily taken aback.

It wasn't every day that they saw their monarch walk amongst them, especially when the more formal modes of transportation available to him.

Their activities came to a standstill, tools and materials set aside as they swiftly straightened their postures, their expressions reflecting a mixture of astonishment and respect.

"Good morning, everyone," Riz's voice rang out, breaking the silence that had enveloped the plaza.

"G-good morning, Your Majesty," came the near-unison response, a chorus of respectful greetings from the workers.

Acknowledging their greetings with a nod and a friendly smile, Riz continued his stride, making his way toward his office within the heart of the bustling complex. 

Once settled behind his desk, Riz had only just begun to sift through the matters that required his attention when a polite knock resounded through the room.

He released a soft, almost theatrical sigh, his playful complaint echoing within the space. "My seat isn't even warmed yet."

"Come in," he called out, his voice welcoming and congenial.

The door creaked open, and a staff member entered, her demeanor apologetic yet respectful. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty," she began, "Minister William wishes to meet you."

Riz nodded understandably. "Send him in," he instructed with a slight wave of his hand.

Shortly after, William entered the room. His entrance was accompanied by a polite greeting. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

"Morning, William. Is there any emergency that led you to seek a meeting with me this early?" Riz's curiosity was piqued, evident in his inquisitive gaze fixed on the minister.

"No emergency, but this," William replied with a tinge of excitement, presenting a set of newly crafted medals intended for an upcoming ceremony.

Riz's gaze shifted to the medals, his interest fully captured by the gleaming insignias before him. Each medal represented a unique recognition, a symbol of honour and dedication.

The medals varied in materials, ranging from the humble iron to the precious gold. Each came with a carefully crafted description detailing the achievement it commemorated.

Riz's fingers delicately picked up one of the iron-made medals, his touch brushing against the cool metal's surface.

"'Iron Valor,'" Riz muttered the name of the medal as he examined it closely. The circular medal featured a relief of a shield and crossed swords on one side, all meticulously crafted in iron. 

Riz set down the iron medal and picked up the next one in line, this time made of steel. The medal was named "Steel Service," and it held a distinct charm of its own.

The steel medal took on a rectangular shape, bearing a stylized design of an olive branch intricately intertwined with a sword, symbolizing the balance between peace and conflict. 

As Riz examined the medal, William offered an estimated list of the recipients.

He glanced at the extensive list and then looked up at William. "Quite a lot," he commented, a touch of surprise in his voice. "Did the production start yet?"

William nodded in affirmation. "I've already assigned people to handle that aspect."

"Good," Riz responded firmly. "Make sure the medals made are of the highest quality. It would be highly embarrassing if we were to present our soldiers with anything defective or substandard."

"Rest assured, Your Majesty. I'll personally oversee the production process."

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