'Those eyes.' An exhilarating chill ran down Oliver's body, his warrior spirit getting fueled.
'Something happened to the Prince yesterday, resulting in a personality change, and I would need to investigate.'
"I don't even know her name, Oliver. How am I supposed to take her as my wife?" Lucien had allowed the maid to finish styling his hair, and he was no longer glaring at him.
"What do you mean, you don't know her, your highness?" Oliver squinted his eyes, walking in front of him.
Lucien flinched. 'What did I miss now?'
"You were both given each other's dossiers. Don't tell me you—"
"What are you talking about, Oliver. Of course, I did." Lucien lied, his voice smooth, "You dare put such allegations on me?"
Gulp!
'Curse you, old Lucien.' He mumbled under his breath, his expressionless face almost faltering.
Oliver blinked, not expecting the Prince to double down.
"It's good then." Oliver shrugged, backing down slightly. "At least you would be prepared for tonight."
Lucien froze. "Tonight?"
'Heh!'
Oliver smirked, "Yes, Your Highness. Don't tell me you fo-"
"No." Lucien stopped him mid-sentence. "Of course not."
The maids' practiced discipline nearly faltered as they exchanged wide-eyed glances, and even Oliver was amused by the situation.
He was excited to see what would happen tonight with his fiancée.
'Heavens, this guy.' On the other hand, Lucien was sweating profusely as he stood up, his hair styling finally finished.
"You can leave, Oliver." He ordered, forcing Oliver to back down and vanish from the room.
He slumped back on the chair, contemplating his next moves.
He raised his hand silently, and in mere seconds, a maid brought him a book with a cover of gold etchings bearing 2 words written cleanly over it.
Selene Vossberg.
…
The time was 19:30, and the nightfall had begun, a cool, pleasant breeze elevating anyone's mood who experienced it.
Inside a certain sumptuous bedroom, Lucien stood in front of the full-body mirror, rechecking his attire for tonight, making sure everything was perfect.
He was wearing a masterpiece of attire, gifted by Lucien's mother, the second queen of Cythos.
He wore a crimson tunic embroidered in golden thread, draped with a midnight velvet cloak trimmed with white fur.
The phoenix-sun insignia of Cythos shone on his chest, paired with black silk trousers and tall leather boots, completing his attire for tonight.
After making sure that his attire was good enough for tonight's dinner date with his soon-to-be fiancée, he snapped his fingers, and a butler appeared and bowed deeply.
He shook his head, questioning if his look for the night was fine, and the butler replied with an affirming nod.
Lucien strode through the lavishly decorated hallways, and the butler guided him from behind.
For the first time in a while, Lucien was nervous.
In his previous life, he had no lover or fiancée, because he had quite a grip over his own life, and he was also outside the palace most of the time.
But here, the original Lucien was like a meek lamb in front of his father, and despite being a free bird and someone who was a notorious Casanova, he couldn't deny his father's arrangements at all.
This dinner date was more like a formality than anything, since the parents had already met with each other and arranged everything for them.
They were just supposed to meet each other and get to know their fiancés better, that's all.
Nothing more, nothing less.
They had no say in this arrangement at all.
…
Selene Vossberg.
A few hours ago, he'd started skimming through her dossiers and realized that there were many obvious gaps in them.
So he had Oliver fill in the holes.
The only daughter of Renata Vossberg, a power-hungry, ambitious, political climber and mastermind of a Duchess.
A duchess who saw marriage as a leverage, not a union.
In a way, Lucien and Selene were merely the stepping stones for all the big players in the game, and Lucien didn't like this feeling one bit.
…
As they passed the final corridor and stepped into the massive, well-maintained garden full of flowers, all the guards, butlers, and maids behind him stopped, as only Lucien and Selene were allowed to be in this garden tonight.
Lucien had already noticed another group of maids, butlers, and guards were standing in the corridor before they even arrived, which meant that Selene was already there.
He navigated his way through the garden, towards the Moonlight Pavilion next to an artificial lake.
He was given a map for this, but he didn't need it at all.
He knew the Starlight Palace like the back of his hand.
A few turns later, he reached a shimmering artificial lake, reflecting the pretty lights of the moon and the beautifully architected marble pavilion.
It was a cozy pavilion, nestled deep inside the garden, surrounded by trees and a waterfall in the background.
The pavilion was breathtaking, but then Lucien laid his eyes on a person, sitting solemnly inside, outshining even the prettiest of the lights there.
Lucien paused.
It was the first time in Lucien's two lives that someone had stolen his breath without drawing a blade.
It wasn't affection, but the sheer admiration.
Her voluminous, platinum-blond hair cascaded down her shoulders like moonlight, complementing her piercing glacial-blue eyes, as if carved from the winter skies right before the snowfall, cool with strange life shimmering in them.
Her face was ethereally beautiful, as if hand-carved by the maker Himself, and her relatively tall, well-built, and well-proportioned body harmonized with her pretty face.
Her upright posture was obvious, even in her beautiful yet complex layered dress.
She looked up suddenly, as if sensing his silent steps, her expression calm, composed, but alert.
'Heightened senses. She is an Exalt. Quite trained one at that.' Out of habit, his gaze switched from appreciative to analyzing.
Then he realized something.
A person awakens on their 18th birthday, and only 18-year-olds can enter the Academy.
The Academy held entrance tests twice a year, meaning that people whose birthday was right after the tests had an advantage of 6 months over people with birthdays right before the test.
And in Lucien's case, it was the latter.
'I cannot slack anymore.' Lucien mumbled as he took slow steps towards the pavilion.
"I believe I'm expected, Lady Vossberg."