The Crown Prince, blinded by his own disbelief, failed to truly delve into Rihannan’s thoughts, her pain, and her suffering. He neglected to truly see her, to gaze into the house that resided within her. Hidden inside that grand and magnificent house were secret rooms and concealed corners, once brimming with innocent laughter and joy, now shrouded in despair.
Chuckling dismissively, believing her words to be mere boasts, the Crown Prince uttered, “You may leave now. I have nothing more to say.”
Rihannan bowed gracefully. “As you wish, Your Highness.” She turned and began walking towards the door, but paused suddenly, her hand resting upon it. “The Crown Prince’s downfall…”
The Crown Prince lifted his head, curiosity piqued. “Hmm?”
“I tell you this now, in case I do not return. I wish to bid you farewell, Your Highness, as a member of Crichton’s royal blood. May you live a long and prosperous life.”
The Crown Prince laughed. “Indeed, I have no desire to be buried at the hands of my dear blood relative. I mean it. And Dimitri greatly resembles his father and possesses diplomatic talent. I hope your persuasion proves fruitful. You hold more value as Arundell’s queen than as a mere pawn in the game.”
Rihannan offered a faint smile and dipped her head in acknowledgement. However, as she turned away, her smile faded from her lips.
Within a year’s time… all the blood-soaked chaos would unravel.
Exiting the Crown Prince’s quarters, Rihannan bit her lip hard.
***
Dozens of ships floated gracefully upon the calm yet turbulent sea. The fierce winds that had once claimed the lives of Chrichton’s vessels had vanished without a trace. The weather, now sunny and clear, welcomed Arundell’s ship as it docked at the port.
Contrasting the picturesque seascape, an air of tension hung heavily over the harbor, for the inhabitants knew that their own ships could arrive at any moment, staining the sea with their own blood.
Today marked the final day to respond to King Arundell’s demands. Should anything deviate from expectations, the port would instantly transform into a battlefield.
Thus, the natives of Chrichton anxiously awaited the arrival of the palace envoy, fervently praying for their safe arrival.
Meanwhile, a group approached the harbor, a carriage bearing Chrichton’s royal seal and the king’s personal guard flanking its sides.
General Chris, responsible for maintaining peace at the port, hurriedly advanced towards them. The carriage slowly came to a halt, its door swinging open to reveal a woman alighting from within. She was adorned in an opulent overcoat and donned high-quality leather gloves. General Chris deduced her noble status from her attire and the carriage bearing the royal seal, which attested to her importance.
The general paid his respects. “Welcome. Thank you for coming.”
Rihannan regarded the general calmly as he extended his greetings, accompanied by the nearby soldiers.
“Are you General Chris?” she inquired.
“Yes, milady. Pray tell, what is your name and status?”
“I am Rihannan Alessin. My uncle is Marquis Preibius, a relative of the royal family. I have come here to meet Arundell’s king upon the orders of the Crown Prince.”
“You have come to meet the King of Arundell?” The general expressed surprise, expecting a tribal chieftain or a negotiator to engage with Arundell’s king or deliver the king’s missive. He had not anticipated a young noblewoman assuming such a pivotal role.
“Here are all the pertinent details. Please deliver this to King Igor.”
Rihannan presented the general with a letter sealed with two lions facing each other—a distinct emblem of the Crown Prince’s authority.
“As you wish, Lady Rihannan. Kindly wait inside momentarily for the other party’s response.”
The general promptly conveyed the letter to the soldier in charge of communication, while Rihannan was escorted to a VIP room. Along the way, her gaze briefly wandered to the ship anchored at the port. Somewhere within its confines resided Igor.
Memories of the horrific past flooded her mind, momentarily engulfing her with fear. In front of the Crown Prince, she had boldly declared that she had conquered her apprehensions, but that was far from the truth. She feared him, feared Igor. She did not wish to perish in a cold, desolate place, reminiscent of her past. At the very least, she yearned for a peaceful departure, surrounded by warm farewells from her loved ones.
Was that too much to ask?
Was it permissible to hope for happiness?
“My Lady, are you well? Is there any discomfort?” the soldier inquired, observing Rihannan’s pale countenance.
Rihannan took a deep breath.
No, there was nothing to fear. The man aboard that ship was not the same as the one from her previous life. In this present existence, he had never inflicted harm upon her. She need not be afraid.
“I am fine,” Rihannan replied, offering a reassuring smile.
***
Soon, the two reached the VIP room.
News of the palace envoy’s arrival rippled through the nearby soldiers and sailors, enlivening the port with activity. Soldiers from Arundell’s ship dispatched a messenger to deliver the letter while awaiting a response. His mission was to deliver the letter sealed with the king’s insignia and return with a suitable answer for the lady.
“Your Majesty!”
The king’s loyal servant, Basil, entered the cabin with an exuberant grin, clutching a letter in his hand.
A man with raven-black hair sat at the desk, bearing the unmistakable traits of Chrichton ancestry. While his eyes and hair reflected Arundell’s common characteristics, his height and facial structure set him apart from Arundell’s men. Raising his hand, he brushed back his hair, revealing slightly tanned skin and deep, violet eyes that exuded intensity.
“The letter has finally arrived!” Basil exclaimed, placing the missive, stamped with the royal seal, upon the desk. He spoke with excitement, “Now that the letter is here, are we heading back to Arundell? I am certain the letter contains an agreement for sending their princess.”
Igor remained silent, tearing open the sealed letter. As Basil prattled on, the king’s attention remained fixated on the window. Basil wondered what peculiar thoughts occupied the king’s mind this time. Igor’s gaze seemed focused on something… or rather, someone, akin to a puppy in need of relieving itself.
Basil cleared his throat, hastening to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts that surfaced. “Your Majesty, what ails you all of a sudden? What does the letter contain?”
“A noble by the name of Alessin has arrived as Chrichton’s messenger. That person wishes to speak with me privately.”
“Alessin… ah… what if…” Basil’s voice trailed off as a recollection from the past flooded his mind. It was an incident he would never forget, one that had nearly cost him his life.
One day, without notifying the Queen, Igor and Basil suddenly departed the palace, embarking on a relentless journey through the night to a small estate in the south. They traversed for days without rest or sustenance, driven by an urgent desire to see her. Alas, by the time they arrived, she had already set sail for Chrichton.
And then, a new problem emerged.
Though they safely returned to the palace, an impending storm loomed over them. The furious Queen unleashed her wrath upon Basil, demanding to know where they had gone. Failure to comply would result in a torturous demise.
But prior to that, Igor had asked Basil a crucial question: “Can I trust you?”
“Of course, Your Majesty!” Basil had replied without hesitation.
“Then do as I say if you wish to live.”
Basil was moved to tears by the king’s words. He would not die!
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
And so, Basil was apprehended by the Queen’s entourage. The Queen herself transformed into a dragon, spewing fire in every direction. She approached Basil with her sleeves rolled up, a cruel smile upon her lips, her hands inching toward his throat. She was not a valiant female general, but a devil incarnate! Basil knew that his demise would come at the Queen’s hands, in the form of choking.
“Where have you been with Igor?” she had demanded.
But he remained silent, enduring the subsequent beatings that brought him to the brink of death. Still, the Queen persisted with her inquiries. And still, Basil remained mute, enduring further punishment before being cast into a prison cell.
Igor, possessing a lingering sense of mercy, later arrived to rescue Basil from the brink of death. Ultimately, their clandestine rendezvous became a secret locked within their hearts. No one knew of the young king’s intentions to visit Count Alessin’s estate on that fateful day.
The Crown Prince, blinded by his own disbelief, failed to truly delve into Rihannan’s thoughts, her pain, and her suffering. He neglected to truly see her, to gaze into the house that resided within her. Hidden inside that grand and magnificent house were secret rooms and concealed corners, once brimming with innocent laughter and joy, now shrouded in despair.
Chuckling dismissively, believing her words to be mere boasts, the Crown Prince uttered, “You may leave now. I have nothing more to say.”
Rihannan bowed gracefully. “As you wish, Your Highness.” She turned and began walking towards the door, but paused suddenly, her hand resting upon it. “The Crown Prince’s downfall…”
The Crown Prince lifted his head, curiosity piqued. “Hmm?”
“I tell you this now, in case I do not return. I wish to bid you farewell, Your Highness, as a member of Crichton’s royal blood. May you live a long and prosperous life.”
The Crown Prince laughed. “Indeed, I have no desire to be buried at the hands of my dear blood relative. I mean it. And Dimitri greatly resembles his father and possesses diplomatic talent. I hope your persuasion proves fruitful. You hold more value as Arundell’s queen than as a mere pawn in the game.”
Rihannan offered a faint smile and dipped her head in acknowledgement. However, as she turned away, her smile faded from her lips.
Within a year’s time… all the blood-soaked chaos would unravel.
Exiting the Crown Prince’s quarters, Rihannan bit her lip hard.
***
Dozens of ships floated gracefully upon the calm yet turbulent sea. The fierce winds that had once claimed the lives of Chrichton’s vessels had vanished without a trace. The weather, now sunny and clear, welcomed Arundell’s ship as it docked at the port.
Contrasting the picturesque seascape, an air of tension hung heavily over the harbor, for the inhabitants knew that their own ships could arrive at any moment, staining the sea with their own blood.
Today marked the final day to respond to King Arundell’s demands. Should anything deviate from expectations, the port would instantly transform into a battlefield.
Thus, the natives of Chrichton anxiously awaited the arrival of the palace envoy, fervently praying for their safe arrival.
Meanwhile, a group approached the harbor, a carriage bearing Chrichton’s royal seal and the king’s personal guard flanking its sides.
General Chris, responsible for maintaining peace at the port, hurriedly advanced towards them. The carriage slowly came to a halt, its door swinging open to reveal a woman alighting from within. She was adorned in an opulent overcoat and donned high-quality leather gloves. General Chris deduced her noble status from her attire and the carriage bearing the royal seal, which attested to her importance.
The general paid his respects. “Welcome. Thank you for coming.”
Rihannan regarded the general calmly as he extended his greetings, accompanied by the nearby soldiers.
“Are you General Chris?” she inquired.
“Yes, milady. Pray tell, what is your name and status?”
“I am Rihannan Alessin. My uncle is Marquis Preibius, a relative of the royal family. I have come here to meet Arundell’s king upon the orders of the Crown Prince.”
“You have come to meet the King of Arundell?” The general expressed surprise, expecting a tribal chieftain or a negotiator to engage with Arundell’s king or deliver the king’s missive. He had not anticipated a young noblewoman assuming such a pivotal role.
“Here are all the pertinent details. Please deliver this to King Igor.”
Rihannan presented the general with a letter sealed with two lions facing each other—a distinct emblem of the Crown Prince’s authority.
“As you wish, Lady Rihannan. Kindly wait inside momentarily for the other party’s response.”
The general promptly conveyed the letter to the soldier in charge of communication, while Rihannan was escorted to a VIP room. Along the way, her gaze briefly wandered to the ship anchored at the port. Somewhere within its confines resided Igor.
Memories of the horrific past flooded her mind, momentarily engulfing her with fear. In front of the Crown Prince, she had boldly declared that she had conquered her apprehensions, but that was far from the truth. She feared him, feared Igor. She did not wish to perish in a cold, desolate place, reminiscent of her past. At the very least, she yearned for a peaceful departure, surrounded by warm farewells from her loved ones.
Was that too much to ask?
Was it permissible to hope for happiness?
“My Lady, are you well? Is there any discomfort?” the soldier inquired, observing Rihannan’s pale countenance.
Rihannan took a deep breath.
No, there was nothing to fear. The man aboard that ship was not the same as the one from her previous life. In this present existence, he had never inflicted harm upon her. She need not be afraid.
“I am fine,” Rihannan replied, offering a reassuring smile.
***
Soon, the two reached the VIP room.
News of the palace envoy’s arrival rippled through the nearby soldiers and sailors, enlivening the port with activity. Soldiers from Arundell’s ship dispatched a messenger to deliver the letter while awaiting a response. His mission was to deliver the letter sealed with the king’s insignia and return with a suitable answer for the lady.
“Your Majesty!”
The king’s loyal servant, Basil, entered the cabin with an exuberant grin, clutching a letter in his hand.
A man with raven-black hair sat at the desk, bearing the unmistakable traits of Chrichton ancestry. While his eyes and hair reflected Arundell’s common characteristics, his height and facial structure set him apart from Arundell’s men. Raising his hand, he brushed back his hair, revealing slightly tanned skin and deep, violet eyes that exuded intensity.
“The letter has finally arrived!” Basil exclaimed, placing the missive, stamped with the royal seal, upon the desk. He spoke with excitement, “Now that the letter is here, are we heading back to Arundell? I am certain the letter contains an agreement for sending their princess.”
Igor remained silent, tearing open the sealed letter. As Basil prattled on, the king’s attention remained fixated on the window. Basil wondered what peculiar thoughts occupied the king’s mind this time. Igor’s gaze seemed focused on something… or rather, someone, akin to a puppy in need of relieving itself.
Basil cleared his throat, hastening to dismiss any inappropriate thoughts that surfaced. “Your Majesty, what ails you all of a sudden? What does the letter contain?”
“A noble by the name of Alessin has arrived as Chrichton’s messenger. That person wishes to speak with me privately.”
“Alessin… ah… what if…” Basil’s voice trailed off as a recollection from the past flooded his mind. It was an incident he would never forget, one that had nearly cost him his life.
One day, without notifying the Queen, Igor and Basil suddenly departed the palace, embarking on a relentless journey through the night to a small estate in the south. They traversed for days without rest or sustenance, driven by an urgent desire to see her. Alas, by the time they arrived, she had already set sail for Chrichton.
And then, a new problem emerged.
Though they safely returned to the palace, an impending storm loomed over them. The furious Queen unleashed her wrath upon Basil, demanding to know where they had gone. Failure to comply would result in a torturous demise.
But prior to that, Igor had asked Basil a crucial question: “Can I trust you?”
“Of course, Your Majesty!” Basil had replied without hesitation.
“Then do as I say if you wish to live.”
Basil was moved to tears by the king’s words. He would not die!
“Yes, Your Majesty!”
And so, Basil was apprehended by the Queen’s entourage. The Queen herself transformed into a dragon, spewing fire in every direction. She approached Basil with her sleeves rolled up, a cruel smile upon her lips, her hands inching toward his throat. She was not a valiant female general, but a devil incarnate! Basil knew that his demise would come at the Queen’s hands, in the form of choking.
“Where have you been with Igor?” she had demanded.
But he remained silent, enduring the subsequent beatings that brought him to the brink of death. Still, the Queen persisted with her inquiries. And still, Basil remained mute, enduring further punishment before being cast into a prison cell.
Igor, possessing a lingering sense of mercy, later arrived to rescue Basil from the brink of death. Ultimately, their clandestine rendezvous became a secret locked within their hearts. No one knew of the young king’s intentions to visit Count Alessin’s estate on that fateful day.
