The king's gaze lingered on Eira for a moment before he turned to leave.
"Good then. I have a meeting with the officials to discuss our response to Tenebria. We will talk more about this later, Ava," he said, using her pet name.
Eira responded with her most charming smile, but once he was gone, her expression faded. A wave of mixed emotions surged through her—guilt for keeping her recent encounter a secret, unease about the looming alliance with Tenebria, and worst of all, a burning curiosity about the silver-haired stranger. He'd left her alone in a fight, and while she had held her own, it still stung.
Just pray I don't see you again, stranger, Eira muttered with a hiss. Because I swear, I'll make you pay.
---
Court Room – Elyria
"Alright, seal the parchment," King Baltimore instructed. "Left Minister Tony, Right Minister Muduk—send the letter to Tenebria. Ensure it is delivered without delay. We have sealed the engagement between Princess Eira and Crown Prince Roderick of Tenebria."
"Yes, Your Majesty," they chorused, bowing.
"The court is dismissed," the king said, and the room began to empty.
---
Tenebria City – The Kingdom of Shadows
Within the towering walls of the Tenebria palace, a hush of reverence settled over the corridors as footsteps echoed through the marbled hall leading to the High Court.
A young man walked with poise and undeniable authority. His long silver hair fell like moonlight over his back, and he wore a flowing white robe with a silver cloak draped across his shoulders. The fabric shimmered with gold-thread embroidery, reflecting light like the glint of stars. A silver circlet rested on his brow, adorned with a single gemstone that caught the light with every step. At his hip was a sword etched with glowing runes, their meaning long forgotten by most, but not by him.
This was Crown Prince Roderick von Blackwood—known more casually, and sometimes with caution, as Derick.
He walked with an elegance that was second nature—head high, back straight, chin raised—not in arrogance, but in the quiet assertion of who he was: the future ruler of Tenebria.
Inside the High Court, the massive hall brimmed with nobles, lords, dukes, ministers, and officials—more than a hundred men and women gathered in solemn assembly. At the far end sat the emperor, Gorton von Blackwood, regal and commanding, his presence as thunderous as it was silent. Beside him, veiled behind a sheer silk partition, sat the empress and the king's favored concubine, their expressions hidden but observant.
To the right of the emperor, the royal sons were seated—all present except one.
Just then, the steward's voice rang through the hall.
"Announcing the arrival of His Highness, Crown Prince Roderick von Blackwood."
A ripple moved through the crowd as Derick entered. He walked toward the throne with long strides, his face expressionless—stoic as a statue. His calm was unsettling. His aura, sharp as a blade. Many held their breath as he passed, as if even their breathing might offend him.
Just as he was nearing his seat beside the emperor, he came to a sudden stop. Slowly, he turned his head to the right, eyes locking on someone among the nobles.
"Duke Wilson," Derick said, his voice soft, but carrying easily through the hall, "we have some unresolved matters regarding trade... and the unusually high tariffs you've been imposing on the people."
The duke paled instantly. A cold sweat formed on his brow as Derick's dark red eyes bore into him—playful, but dangerous, like a predator humoring its prey. It wasn't a smile on his lips, not really. It was a warning.
Everyone knew what that smile meant.
Who was Derick?
The first son of the emperor and empress of Tenebria. A man known for his quiet nature and disarming charm, but behind that calm lurked a storm that many dared not provoke. He played the fool when it suited him—but that was the trap. Derick saw everything, knew everything, and more often than not, made sure his enemies walked right into their own ruin… while he waited with amusement to witness it.
His gaze swept the hall, scanning the ministers, causing more than a few to shift uncomfortably in their seats. Some held his gaze in defiance, others quickly looked away.
The emperor, sensing the unease, decided it was time to temper the mood.
"Crown Prince Derick," he said, drawing the attention of the hall. Derick turned toward the throne, face unreadable.
"You arrived late, and the first thing you do is terrify my subordinates?" the emperor asked, raising a brow.
Derick gave a small smirk, unfazed. "I couldn't help it, Your Majesty. Please forgive me."
There was no remorse in his tone. If anything, his words carried a hint of playful mockery.
The emperor sighed, rubbing his forehead. He was long past being surprised by his son's behavior.
"Live long and serve your people till eternity, Your Majesty," Derick said as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head respectfully—but even that seemed like a performance.
The emperor stared at him for a long moment. He greets differently every time, the king thought with a smirk. He says "serve forever" just to spite me—because he knows I want him to marry and take the throne. But that boy… he thinks he can avoid it. If only he knew he's already engaged.
"Rise," the emperor said flatly, not bothering to comment further.
Derick stood and took his seat like nothing had happened. He could feel the stares—resentful, wary, curious. Hatred, even. But he didn't care even for a moment.
"What more would you expect of an aloof individual, he does he thing his own way not caring a second",, more bluntly you could say he loved the hate, curiosity, cautiousness, and fear they do display.
It's gives him another sense of fulfillment and calm, a peace he had come in terms with,, with a light smirk he casually glanced around before shifting his gaze away not lingering anymore ".