บท 9: 9 — Princess Cynthia’s Palace

A large group of men on horseback arrived at the border of Eldoria, where a contingent of armoured soldiers stood guard, their swords ready for any threat.

"Where do you come from?" one of the knights on duty demanded, eyeing their distinctive attire.

"Selvarys," Lucian replied, presenting the seal that the king had entrusted to him. "The king of Selvarys instructed me to show this seal to the guards at the border."

"Very well. Open the gates."

Although the king had forewarned the knights about the arrival of the Selvarians, their appearance came sooner than expected. Only a month had passed since the announcement of the marriage between the two kingdoms, and many were still struggling to accept such an unexpected decision.

The large gate opened, revealing a soft violet glow. It was a teleportation gate used by the mage knights at the border to ease the journey for foreign guests and make it easier for them to reach their destinations.

Lucian wasn't allowed to use such a luxurious magic spell; the king had forbidden him from using magic since he was twelve.

Inhaling deeply, the dark-haired young man stepped through the violet light, followed closely by his men.

In an instant, Lucian found himself standing before an immense castle painted white. Though not as large as the king's castle, it was no less grand.

The yard was divided into two sections, with an asphalt road running between them. Numerous colourful flowers bloomed on either side of the lawn, adding a vibrant touch to the scene.

Lucian couldn't help but smile softly at the beauty of it all.

"What is funny, Your Highness?" Dylan asked, confused.

It was rare to see his commander smile. He could barely recall such a moment.

"It's nothing."

Lucian regained his composure. He was in enemy territory and couldn't afford to enjoy such trivial things.

Once they reached the entrance of the castle, Lucian and his knights were interrogated by the guards.

After confirming his identity, he and his men were asked to leave their weapons.

"What in the world!" Adrian exclaimed, losing his composure.

"Even if we were at war, gassing each other, we don't plan to do anything!" Dylan retorted, clearly enraged.

The other knights exchanged startled glances at the unexpected request.

Lucian raised his hand, gesturing for his subordinates to remain calm.

The Grand Duke drew his sword and handed it to the guard.

Without a word, his soldiers followed suit. They trusted their commander and believed he would never make a wrong decision. They had seen it since the start of the war; he knew when to attack and when to retreat.

As one guard collected the swords, another hurried off to notify the princess of Selvarys' delegation's arrival.

"Where are you going?" Duke Ramsel, who had just walked into the hallway, inquired.

The guard bowed before speaking. "The delegation from Selvarys is here. I was on my way to notify Her Highness, the Princess."

"You go ahead. I will handle it," Duke Ramsel instructed, gesturing for the man to leave.

Once the guard had returned to his post, the duke began pacing, deep in thought.

"What should I do…?" he muttered to himself. As he pondered, an idea suddenly clicked in his mind.

The frown on his face gradually faded as he made his way to the entrance.

"Welcome, Your Highness," Duke Ramsel greeted the prince with a bow.

Lucian nodded. He wasn't interested in Eldorian courtesy; he had expected harsher treatment, worse than what he had experienced at the palace.

It seems even the enemy treats you well when it suits them.

"Who might you be?" Lucian asked, raising an eyebrow.

The man before him didn't seem to be a servant of the palace; his attire was too fancy for a butler.

"I apologize for my late introduction. I am Duke Ramsel Jihan, brother of the late Queen Irina and Princess Cynthia's uncle. Let me guide you to your accommodations for the time being," the Duke offered, leading the way through the hallway.

With a nod, Lucian and his group followed the middle-aged man.

As they walked, Lucian noticed the pastel-blue painted walls, his curiosity piqued.

"Who might own this palace?" Lucian wondered.

It was unusual for palace interiors to be painted in anything other than white or beige. He had never seen a palace like this before.

Duke Ramsel, noticing Lucian's expression, chuckled.

"This is Princess Cynthia's palace, the Jade Palace."

Lucian flinched at the answer, surprised to find the information he was seeking.

"We have arrived," the Duke announced before Lucian could speak.

The large wooden door, carved with a lion illustration, creaked open.

The hall was vast, large enough to accommodate the entire delegation, which consisted of fifteen people.

"Please, take a seat," Duke Ramsel gestured toward the numerous couches.

Lucian took a seat, and his subordinates, impressed by the magnificent hall, followed suit.

The Duke sat opposite Lucian and began asking irrelevant questions.

As much as Lucian wanted to grab his sword and treat the man before him as he would a beast, he couldn't. He didn't have a sword with him, and it could endanger his companions and jeopardize the alliance for which he was sent to this kingdom.

For a moment, he had forgotten the loathing he felt towards the Eldorians. He clicked his tongue, disappointed in himself.

A mere castle was enough to distract him?

Nonsense!

"I heard you don't have a palace of your own, Your Highness," the Duke's words stung Lucian's dignity as prince.

He couldn't deny it, but admitting so hurt his pride.

What pride? Do I even have any?

Glaring at the man before him, Lucian spoke.

"I believe we aren't here to discuss my life. When will His Majesty the King arrive?"

Duke Ramsel scoffed.

"I apologize, but the king has more important matters to attend to."

"Are you saying it's not important for him to at least have an audience with His Highness?" Dylan interjected, raising an eyebrow. He was irritated by the Duke's sharp remarks and couldn't understand why Lucian hadn't addressed them.

"Keep quiet," Lucian ordered. "It's fine. Can we at least rest somewhere? We've been on the road for quite some time and are exhausted."

Lucian's jaw clenched, embarrassed by his own words. He was asking for a favour from his enemy. How laughable!

"Of course," Duke Ramsel rose from the couch and gestured for the men in the hall to follow him.

Inhaling deeply to calm his anger, Lucian followed the man once again. It felt as though the man was toying with them, but Lucian couldn't afford to react. A small mistake could jeopardize everything—the marriage and the title he had obtained because of it.

As they moved through the greenery, Lucian's gaze fell on a woman standing in the distance. Her long silver hair flowed in the wind, and her light purple dress billowed gently in the breeze.

Without a second thought, he approached her.

"Have we met somewhere before?"