The royal ship docked smoothly at a polished stone pier located on one of the lower terraces of the immense mountain that housed the castle.
There, the air felt different, the pressure was heavier, purer, unlike that of the Sect of Three Poisons.
Warriors clad in white armor formed a perfect line from the pier all the way to the great gates of the castle.
Ling didn't waste a single second. The moment her feet touched the ground, she took hold of Cairen's arm, not harshly, but the weight of her hand was heavy, just like when she had touched his shoulder at the inheritance site.
"Come. My father doesn't like to wait," she said, her voice low but authoritative.
She then led him through the gates, completely ignoring the guards and servants. They walked through corridors, but they were anything but ordinary.
They passed through monumental halls with high, sculpted ceilings. Tapestries depicting an ancestral beast and the conquests of former kings covered the white marble walls.
The air smelled of ancient incense, and the strength and arrogance of the place felt tangible.
Cairen felt insignificant. Every step, every hall they crossed, was a reminder of the vast difference in power and influence between him and the kingdom that now claimed his freedom.
Finally, they reached a pair of doors that seemed to be made of strange bones and glowing stones.
The guards before the door, exuding powerful auras, opened it without any audible command.
The throne hall was even more impressive. It was circular, and at its center stood a throne made from the bones of ancient beasts, rising directly from the mountain floor.
Seated upon it was the King of Rhyne.
He was like Ling, exceptionally tall. Even seated, Cairen knew he was definitely the tallest person he had ever seen.
His hair was pure silver, tied back in a high knot. His face was marked by imperial authority, but it was his eyes that exuded true pressure.
They were a vivid green, unlike the princess's silver ones.
He didn't need to speak or move. His mere presence filled the hall, a silent pressure radiating from someone of far superior cultivation. Cairen knew that the man before him was the most powerful person he had ever encountered.
Even more so than the leader of the Sect of Three Poisons. He just didn't know by how much.
Ling released Cairen's arm and gave a short, precise bow.
"Father, I brought him," she said directly.
She had already sent her father a message moments earlier, and the old guardian had likely discussed the matter with him as well. So Ling was brief.
Cairen, following instinct, lowered his head slightly but still kept his eyes raised, meeting the king's gaze. It was an act most would never dare.
The king's jade-green eyes passed over Ling Xiyue and fixed on Cairen.
He felt the weight of that gaze as if it were physical, probing every inch of his being, as though searching for something.
After a silence that seemed to last an age, the king finally spoke. His voice was deep, carrying the tone of a decree.
"The bloodline is there. Stable and strong," he said, then turned his gaze to Ling.
"You've done well, daughter. He will serve."
"The engagement will be announced in three days. You, Cairen Veyrith, shall hold the rights of a consort prince. But that may change in the future."
"The lower library, the cultivation gardens, and an instructor will be provided to you."
He then paused, the pressure in the air seeming to increase severalfold over Cairen.
"In return, your only duty is to ensure that my daughter's lineage does not consume her. If she falls into madness, you have failed. And you know the price of failure. After all, the two of you are connected, one way or another," he said in a chilling whisper.
"Is that clear?" he asked.
"Yes," Cairen forced the word out, his voice surprisingly steady.
The king nodded once, a final gesture of dismissal. The brief audience was over.
Ling, who had remained still throughout the entire exchange, took hold of Cairen's arm again.
"Come," she ordered, pulling him out of the hall.
This time, she didn't lead him back through the grand corridors but instead through a series of smaller, more private hallways.
They climbed a spiral staircase until reaching a specific wing of the castle.
Stopping before a dark wooden door carved with wavelike patterns, she pushed it open.
"These will be your quarters," she announced.
The room was spacious and elegant, with a large bed, a writing desk, and a balcony overlooking the castle's inner gardens.
It was far more luxurious than anything he had ever known, but the bars of the cage were invisible.
"Stay here and get settled. If you have any belongings left in the Sect of Three Poisons, they'll be brought to you in a few days. Don't wander too far outside this wing without my permission. At least, not for now."
Her tone was more casual now.
She looked at him, and for the first time since they had left the throne room, her usual smile returned. But now, it seemed even more possessive.
"Welcome to your new home, fiancé. Don't ruin it."
Without another word, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.
Cairen stood in the center of the room, the vision of the king and everything that had just happened echoing in his mind. He took a deep breath, the clean air of the castle filling his lungs.
He was trapped, monitored.
But still, he wouldn't let that shake his resolve.