King Elvarion's birthday had finally arrived. Dozens of the finest horse-drawn carriages paraded through the streets and passed through the heavily guarded palace gates. People lining the roads and filling the markets beat drums in celebration, their festive cheers accompanying the grand banquet.
A red carpet stretched between long tables arranged face-to-face in the palace's great hall. The King's throne stood on the raised main platform, flanked by seats reserved for the rest of the royal family.
The seating was strictly arranged according to court hierarchy and noble titles. Nearly every invited guest brought their families—spouses and children in tow. It was an open secret that every royal banquet doubled as an opportunity for nobles to scout potential matches for their heirs.
The guests filled their assigned seats within moments, leaving only two chairs conspicuously empty. The owners of those seats—the most anticipated bachelors of the evening—finally strode into the hall. Instantly, every eye in the banquet turned toward the two young men walking side by side.
One carried an air of intelligence and charm, the other an aura of heroic elegance. They were Thalien Dareth and Cassian Greer.
Cassian and Thalien had met only a handful of times. While Cassian spent most of his years in military camps, indifferent to courtly circles, Thalian thrived in political maneuvering. Yet whenever they crossed paths, Thalien greeted him with the enthusiasm of an old friend.
Their entrance absorbed all attention in the banquet hall. The gazes of noblewomen clung to them—every gesture and movement captivating and pleasing to the eye.
Estharen did not lack exceptional young men, but the others paled compared to Cassian and Thalien. Every noble son in attendance seemed painfully inferior beside them.
"Hmph!"
A soft scoff came from one of the noble ladies—Eliane Maris, daughter of Marquis Maris.
Lady Anne discreetly glared at her only daughter. While every other noble girl swooned over the two young men, her daughter remained utterly disinterested. She couldn't help but worry—was there something wrong with her?
"You foolish girl, pay proper attention," Lady Anne hissed. "There are no better matches in the kingdom than Cassian Greer and Thalien Dareth!"
Eliane frowned at her mother's words but reluctantly swept her gaze toward the two men seated at the highest-ranking table.
Cassian Greer was the sole grandson of the legendary General Greer of Estharen. The old general had only one sickly son, and many had doubted the future of the Greer lineage—until, during his posting in Valmere, that son was said to have married and fathered a child. Two years later, both parents died, leaving Cassian an orphan.
Raised under the old general's strict tutelage, Cassian grew into a prodigy. He had accompanied his grandfather on countless campaigns since the age of ten. By fifteen, he was already hailed as the youngest and most formidable general in Estharen's history.
But his reputation didn't stop there. Cassian commanded thirty thousand Greer troops, and his elite personal force—the Obsidian Legion, which was ten thousand strong- was said to rival fifty thousand ordinary soldiers. In battle, he had earned the fearsome title "God of Death" for his ruthless efficiency.
History recorded that he once repelled fifty thousand Calethran troops with only ten thousand men, forcing a peace treaty after decades of tension between the two kingdoms.
Yet beyond his military brilliance, Cassian Greer was the dream of every noble daughter, not just for his striking looks and imposing physique but also for his heroic aura, laced with just the right amount of arrogance and roguish charm.
Perhaps due to being raised in military camps and battlefields, Cassian was known as a young man who frequently disregarded courtly protocols and noble etiquette. Though his manners were lacking, his aura somehow outshone even that of royal princes.
On the opposite side stood Thalien Dareth—the only young man who didn't appear inferior when placed beside Cassian Greer.
Thalien Dareth embodied the ideal nobleman. Renowned as the kingdom's most brilliant mind, his friendly demeanor only enhanced his appeal. When he was only fifteen years old, the son of the Minister of Justice became the youngest candidate to pass the royal exams. To this day, he has remained the youngest minister in the royal court.
In addition to his bright future, Thalien's looks were admirable. His deep-set eyes and smiling that caused the dimples to show on his face were so attractive that the hearts of noble daughters could be won just like that. It was no wonder that countless aristocratic families ranked him as their top candidate for a son-in-law.
"Hmph!" Another soft scoff escaped Eliane's lips.
Thalien subtly tilted his head, sensing someone's irritated gaze. Before the tension could linger, the blare of trumpets diverted the guests' attention.
"Announcing the arrival of the royal family!" All guests rose, placing their right hands over their left chests in a respectful bow.
Through the grand hall doors, King Elvarion entered first, followed by Queen Selmira, Crown Prince Kaedor on his left, and Princess Nyssara on his right. Yet, rather than focusing on the King, dozens of eyes immediately locked onto the graceful figure walking at the very back—Princess Althea Lysithe.
No one in Estharen was unaware of Princess Althea's beauty. Some bards and poets called her "a face that could topple kingdoms."
Her white gown, embroidered with gold, made her look like a fairy descended from heaven. Her blonde hair cascaded halfway down her waist, adorned with delicate strings of pearls.
She was so confident that she was literally walking perfection—the perfect posture, the hands resting there, and the glance that was like a laser. Every single detail, from her eyebrows to the nose and lips, was fine to the point that they seemed to be painted by a master. Her bearing had a quiet dignity, a noble grace that even Queen Selmira couldn't replicate.
Princess Althea carried an innate serenity and poise that no other noble daughter possessed—not even Princess Nyssara, who had received the same royal etiquette training. Every step she took seemed to float on clouds, as if flowers bloomed in her wake. Words like "stunning" or "elegant" couldn't do her justice.
"Long live His Majesty the King! May glory forever shine upon him!"
The hall erupted in cheers.
"Thank you."
King Elvarion took his throne with a smile, gesturing for the guests to be seated. His face, now marked by wrinkles at the half-century mark, showed signs of wear. Recently, whispers about his declining health had begun circulating.
Drums beat, trumpets roared, and the grand central hall became vibrant with merriment. Laughter and toasts peppered the feast to the delight of all the guests. Fancy dinners, dances, and wonderful music were on display. They were a true testament to the wealth and prosperity of Estharen. Partakers such as lords, council members, and even foreign delegates were toasting to King Elvarion.
Prince Rowan and Princess Liliane, representing the Kingdom of Sevrine and Prince Caelan of Calethra, drew considerable attention. Several officials already knew King Elvarion planned to form a marriage alliance. However, whether the chosen groom would be from Sevrine or Calethra remained unclear.
Nyssara Elvarion stole glances at the two princes, her eyes brightening when her gaze accidentally met Prince Caelan's polite smile. A rosy blush instantly spread across her cheeks.
"Darling, compose yourself," Queen Selmira whispered meaningfully.
Caught red-handed, Nyssara's blush deepened. She nodded hastily and raised her cup to hide her flustered smile.
Among the honored guests, Princess Liliane's sharp eyes flicked toward Althea with a flash of disdain. She'd heard all the tales of Althea Lysithe's beauty—yet seeing her in person stirred an inexplicable irritation.
Then Liliane's gaze shifted across the hall—and her breath hitched. She'd encountered countless handsome nobles as a royal princess, but none compared to Cassian Greer. Her pulse quickened; warmth rushed to her cheeks.
"I've heard General Cassian Greer is an extraordinary man," Liliane's honeyed voice cut through the banquet, soft as a breeze yet impossible to ignore. "To meet him in person is truly fortunate."
Her words plunged the lively feast into abrupt silence. The noblewomen's expressions darkened—especially Cerene Anster, who gripped her cup so tightly her knuckles whitened. Only Eliane Maris and Althea Lysithe seemed more interested in their desserts.
"Don't act rashly," Prime Minister Anster warned his daughter under his breath.
Seconds ticked by with no response from Cassian. The tension thickened until King Elvarion cleared his throat.
"Estharen is blessed to have a remarkable young man like General Cassian Greer."
The guests murmured in agreement. Cassian acknowledged the King with a slight nod—his trademark aloofness on full display. Everyone knew the Greer heir's pride; even the King wouldn't risk offending him. After all, Estharen's military strength relied heavily on Cassian's forces.
The noblewomen exhaled in relief—their coveted bachelor seemed indifferent to Liliane. Meanwhile, Thalien Dareth raised his cup, smirking as he muttered to Cassian:
"Princess Liliane appears smitten at first sight."
Cassian ignored him, sipping his drink as if the conversation had nothing to do with him. Thalien nearly choked on his laughter. This arrogant bastard, to openly snub a foreign princess, was ruthless.
Two pairs of eyes—Liliane's and Cerene's—followed Cassian's occasional, fleeting glances toward Althea. Jealousy burned in their chests; their grips on their cups tightened.
Rowan noticed and discreetly nudged his sister's hand in warning.
"Before arriving in Estharen, I'd heard many tales of the palace's beauty," Rowan smoothly redirected the conversation. "Yet today, I find it far surpasses all descriptions."
King Elvarion chuckled, pleased. "Prince Rowan flatters us too much."
"Your Majesty speaks the truth," Rowan added with flattery, swiftly shifting focus to the man nearby, "What does Prince Caelan think?"
Caelan, who had maintained composure throughout, was drawn into the conversation.
"I share Prince Rowan's sentiment."
King Elvarion nodded, his smile widening. The middle-aged ruler's satisfaction visibly doubled. Seizing the opportunity, Queen Selmira spoke up.
"Since this is the princes' and princess's first visit to our palace, let Princess Nyssara accompany them on a tour of the grounds."
The queen glared at Nyssara, who blushed and nodded shyly, then turned back to their honored guests with a gracious smile.
"We would be honored," Rowan and Liliane replied in polite unison.
"Thank you for Your Majesty's hospitality," Caelan added, further brightening the queen's expression. "Allow me to propose a toast to Your Majesties' health and glory."
Pleased, the King accepted the toast, joined by all attendees. The banquet grew livelier as guests indulged in the palace's lavish offerings.
.
.
.
The grand hall festivities had long concluded. Rather than returning to the eastern castle, Althea wandered into the palace forest to clear her mind. Amid the dense foliage, a black-clad man dropped from the trees and bowed slightly.
"Neris?" Althea startled, scanning his surroundings. "Don't appear so recklessly!" she warned.
The man called Neris nodded obediently. "Forgive me. I only wish to report the information you requested."
"Very well. I'll hear your report once we return to my chambers."
"Understood." With that, Neris leaped back into the trees and vanished.
Althea turned to head back to the eastern castle—the simplest and smallest residence in the palace. Tyra and Noma were likely frantic by now, unable to find her in the hall.
Yet as she passed through the gardens, her steps slowed at the sight of an approaching entourage. She suppressed a sigh—it was the princes and princesses on their palace tour.
"Cousin, what are you doing here?" Nyssara asked amiably.
Althea answered calmly, "Just taking some air to clear the banquet's wine from my head."
"Oh, I thought Princess Althea was deliberately blocking our path," Liliane remarked lightly.
Althea ignored the jab. "I'll take my leave now."
Liliane's smile vanished, her lips twisting. She nearly spat fire at the lowborn princess daring to dismiss her.
"Snubbing honored guests is disgraceful conduct," Liliane chided, her voice sweet yet laced with venom. "As a princess, you should know better. I wonder where you learned such discourtesy."
Though Nyssara initially disliked Liliane's brashness, her hostility toward Althea made her gladly side with the Sevrine princess.
Yet their target remained unshaken. Althea's eyes were dark as autumn water, soft when she lifted her gaze, yet edged with frost.
"It seems Princess Liliane is so enthralled by the palace scenery that she's lost focus." Althea's words struck like a well-aimed arrow, causing Liliane's expression to twist dramatically. "Perhaps Princess Liliane could clarify—exactly how did I 'snub' our honored guests?"
Caelan, watching in silence, suddenly focused all his attention on Althea. Originally, he'd notated her as one of those rare beauties. But she was so much more interesting with her razor-sharp wit and unflappable poise. An ice-cold, unreachable soul that filled him with the inexplicable need to strip her bare.
Nearby, two figures halted their steps to watch silently. The corners of Thalien's and Cassian's mouths twitched at Althea's retort. Delivered lightly, yet lethally precise—she'd flipped the situation with a single sentence.
"Liliane is no match for Althea Lysithe," Thalien remarked with an amused smirk.
Althea's eyes were deceptively clear, almost childlike in their innocence. Yet those calm depths seemed to pierce through pretense with a single glance. An icy undercurrent radiated when they settled on Liliane, sending an involuntary shiver down spines.
Liliane opened her mouth to retaliate—but found herself speechless. A sharp warning glance from Rowan forced her to swallow her fury. Fuming internally, she lowered her gaze and feigned contrition.
"I apologize if my sister's words offended you, Princess Althea," Rowan interjected smoothly, salvaging Liliane's dignity. "Please don't take them to heart."
Nyssara seethed at the sudden shift in dynamics. But in front of the princes—especially Caelan—she had to maintain her image of grace.
"Indeed! I'm sure Princess Liliane only joked. Cousin, you needn't take it so seriously."
Liliane's hidden smirk returned at Nyssara's defense.
"Of course," Althea conceded, her tone effortlessly magnanimous. She had no interest in prolonging the clash—her poise alone made Liliane's pettiness glaringly obvious.
"Then I'll take my leave." With a slight bow, she turned, chin lifted, and walked away.
Unconsciously, Caelan's gaze followed her retreating figure, a faint smile on his lips. When Nyssara, about to suggest resuming the tour, caught his expression, her hands clenched her skirts, eyes burning with venom.
Cassian, meanwhile, stared at where Althea had vanished. Noticing Caelan's softened gaze, his face turned twice as frosty. Oblivious, Thalien shook his head and strode off, leaving Cassian rooted in place.
…