Chapter 341: The Silent Sentinel
’Not to this degree...’
She seemed completely oblivious to the predatory looks being directed her way, too lost in her delusions to notice she had just painted a big target on her own back.
’...No.’
That was beyond mere foolishness. It was a public spectacle that could, no, did damage her family’s standing and make her a laughingstock.
’...Does she not see it? Or... does she not just care?’ Vance couldn’t understand her at all.
She was willingly becoming a pawn in whatever game the crown prince was playing, and she was too infatuated to even see the board. And that she was just a mere pawn.
’...Urgh. I can’t stand it.’
He watched as Bane gently, but firmly, extricated his arm from her grasp, offering her a smile that seemed loving to the crowd but to Vance’s eyes looked like a handler calming an excitable pet.
The prince’s mask of benevolent playboy was flawless, but Vance didn’t believe it one bit. If he did, there would be no difference between him and Carmine.
’Hmm?’
It was then that a faint movement beside him caught his attention.
He glanced at Princess Aurelia.
Her posture was still regally straight, but he noticed the subtle signs. Her fists were clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles were white, and a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through her frame.
Her gaze was fixed on the painful spectacle of Carmine’s humiliation, her expression carefully neutral, but her eyes holding a deep, wounded understanding.
’...Maybe I shouldn’t have said that to her,’ he thought, recalling his honesty about her precarious position before the journey.
But he shook his head internally, his resolve hardening.
’No. It was for her own good.’
Sooner or later, she would have to face reality. And the reality of their world was a cruel and merciless beast. It was better she get accustomed to its teeth early, before it truly tried to take a bite.
"~~~♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ."
Just then, a fanfare of crystal trumpets cut through the din, their clear, piercing notes commanding an instant and absolute silence. Every head, including Prince Bane’s and his throng of admirers, turned toward the main balcony overlooking the courtyard.
The chief herald, his voice projected by aura and ceremony to fill every corner of the vast space, boomed out:
"All rise and attend! Their Majesties approach! The Sun of our Kingdom, His Royal Majesty, King Liam Orlan the Third! Alongside her Radiant Grace, Queen Mother Aurora, First Consort! Her Brilliant Grace, Queen Mivia, Second Consort! And Her Luminescent Grace, Queen Isolde, Third Consort!"
The grand doors at the top of the balcony stairs swung open.
The King, looking both frail and formidable, leaning on an ornate staff, emerged first.
Behind him, in a carefully orchestrated procession of power and precedence, came his three wives.
’...’ Vance stared at the scene with full of awe and caution.
A unified, thunderous roar erupted from the assembled nobility, a wave of sound that vibrated through the very stones of the courtyard.
"LONG LIVE THE KING!"
The sentiment was echoed for the queens. "LONG LIVE THEIR MAJESTIES!"
King Liam slowly raised his free hand, a simple, practiced gesture that sliced through the adulation like a blade, commanding instant, reverent silence.
His voice, though thinner than in his youth, was amplified by the same aura that carried the herald’s words, reaching every ear with quiet authority.
"We are glad," he began, his eyes slowly sweeping over the crowd, "to see the pillars of our great kingdom gathered here at this small... celebration today." A faint, knowing smile touched his lips at the understatement. "We thank you all for coming to share in this day of unity and joy."
He paused, allowing his words to settle. "In times of peace and in times of trial, it is the strength of our bonds that sees us through. Let this gathering be a reminder of that strength..."
Vance listened silently, afraid of missing any necessary info. A few minutes passed.
"And now..." The king’s smile widened slightly, the formality easing into a more festive tone. "...let us not keep waiting. Let the festivities begin!"
A final, resounding round of applause swept through the courtyard as the king concluded his ’short’ speech.
With his final words, the spell of absolute attention broke.
The royal orchestra swelled into a lively melody, the hum of conversation returned at a higher, more relaxed pitch, and servants began circulating with fresh trays of drinks and delicacies with renewed urgency.
The main event(the game) had officially begun.
The carefully maintained formations of nobles dissolved into a fluid, social mingling. Yet, beneath the merriment, the political currents immediately began to flow again, now with the royal family present as the fixed points around which everyone navigated.
Vance did not join the festivities. His place was a half-step behind and to the left of Princess Aurelia, a silent, watchful shadow.
His eyes constantly scanned the crowd, his imposing presence and the cold glint of his armor warding off those with overtly malicious intentions and the more foolish young masters who thought a ’ghost princess’ might be an easy target for their political advances.
’?’ He noticed a small movement beside the princess.
Young Rayn, having observed Vance’s vigilant posture, had puffed out his chest and positioned himself in a perfect mirror of the knight’s stance on his sister’s other side, his expression one of fierce, childish determination to ’protect’ her.
Vance felt a faint, inward chuckle.
The gesture was so earnest that it was disarming.
’...’
It vividly recalled those moments back at the academy where Amaniel, in a rare mood, would sling an arm around Vance’s shoulders and loudly declare himself Aurelia’s ’second guard,’ mimicking his serious expression until even Vance couldn’t maintain his stoicism.
Without breaking his watchful scan of the room, Vance reached out and gently ruffled Rayn’s hair, then gave him a firm, approving thumbs-up. The boy beamed, standing even taller.
His gaze then drifted to Rania, who was still clinging to her father’s side. He wanted to offer her some comfort, to somehow ease the gloomy shadow that clung to her.
But he had no words to speak, and even if he did, he couldn’t say them directly.
All he could manage was a small, gentle smile when her eyes briefly met his, a silent gesture of reassurance and shared, unspoken understanding. She offered a tiny, almost imperceptible nod in return before looking down at her shoes again.
It wasn’t much, but in the glittering, cutthroat world of the court, it was a moment of genuine, quiet connection.
For now, that would have to be enough...
’I can give them small comforts... but against the storm that’s coming, comforts are nothing. I’ll need to be sharper, smarter, and stronger. For her sake. For their sake. For my sake. And...’
’...For his sake.’