Chapter 23: A Revelating Audience

The morning soon came quickly. A soft knock of a maid roused them, and when the twins opened the chest at last, they found new outfits prepared for the day which Solan had bought from a tailor on one of his outings to Attalon village.

Lea’s was a pastel green and white dress with golden embroidery which matched the earcuff she’d gotten back in Marchten. She spun halfway before the mirror, the fabric swaying around her knees. “Wow, I love how it goes so well with my eyes and hair!” Lea exclaimed, her emerald gaze practically sparkling as she admired herself.

Leo let out a slight snicker towards her at the thought of her being Haruki and now having these girly interests when she used to not give the slightest bit of intrigue. He still wasn’t used to it sometimes, the way his sister seemed to genuinely enjoy things Haruka never would have spared a glance at.

Leo was fitted with a dark formal tuxedo embroidered with the sun crest of House Kazantria on the side pocket of the suit. He tugged uncomfortably at the collar before finally straightening his shoulders. The fabric felt stiff, but he had to admit, even he looked rather noble in the mirror.

Together, they stepped into the hall to be escorted toward breakfast. Their boots clicked against the polished floor, the faint echo chasing them down the long corridor. But when they entered the dining space, once again they were the last to arrive.

At one end of the table, seated with quiet authority, was a mustached man in a black coat with the crest of a black gryphon stitched proudly on the sleeve. His features were sharp, his gaze cutting, and as the Kazantrias entered, he turned his head towards them.

The look he gave them was stern and measured. He gave a slight smile towards them before turning back to his meal without a word.

Beside him sat a tall-looking woman, her hair a wavy white, flowing over her shoulders like winter frost. Her posture was perfect, her chin high, hands resting with elegance on the table.

Is that this guy’s wife? Also, why was he giving us a death stare, this is our first time meeting, Lea pondered, trying not to let her unease show on her face.

The atmosphere thickened in the room, though no blade had been drawn. They had only just joined, but already the room gave off an aura of vendettas, suspicion, and unspoken threats.

The family sat down for breakfast and later that afternoon they were allowed into the main section of the castle.

The man with the gryphon crest ate quickly, and deliberately, as though he were in a rush. The way he carried himself demanded attention without a word spoken. The Drakenhart name was not announced aloud, yet the weight of their presence filled the room nonetheless.

Leo shifted uncomfortably, nibbling at a pastry. Every now and then, he risked a glance at the man at the far end. His stern gaze hadn’t returned to them, but the silence he cast across the table was heavier than any glare.

Lea leaned toward her mother, her voice barely a whisper. “Mother… that’s the Drakenhart house, isn’t it?” she asked after noticing the small writing above the crest on his chair.

Lucina gave a slight nod, her lips tight. “Yes. Remember your manners, my dear. They are very powerful people in this kingdom.”

“Or dangerous enemies,” Solan muttered under his breath, so quietly only the twins and Lucina could hear.

The rest of breakfast passed in uneasy quiet, punctuated by the clink of silverware and the soft shuffle of servants. For the twins, the food might have been some of the finest they’d ever tasted, rich meats and honey-glazed bread, but it was dulled by the unsavory feeling that pressed down on the room.

When the meal ended, the nobles exchanged formal parting words, shaking each other’s hands, each family returning to their respective chambers for a time. The Kazantrias followed, their shoes sounding against the marble floors as they were escorted back through the long hallway.

Later that afternoon, a knock at the door summoned them again. A servant, bowing low, spoke:

“My lords, my lady, and young masters — our princess requests your presence within the castle itself. You are to have an audience with her in the throne room,” the maid announced.

Lucina smoothed her gown, Solan tightened his cloak, and the twins exchanged a nervous glance.

As they left the guest wing and stepped into the light of the courtyard, the castle loomed above them with even greater grandeur. The towers reached skyward, banners of crimson and gold bearing the Phoenix snapped in the afternoon breeze as they walked past.

Ahead, the great doors of the palace were opened by two guards and the rest of the members of nobility followed behind.

The castle halls were about to swallow them into the world of politics, secrets, and schemes that lay behind its walls.

Servants guided the assembled nobles and their children through the grand corridors, their footsteps muffled against rich red carpets. Every step forward made the twins feel smaller, yet more aware of the weight of the world they were about to enter.

The hall they entered was vast, its high windows letting in sheets of morning light. The glass was tinted in hues of crimson, blue, and gold, casting colors across the polished marble floor. At its far end, upon a modest dais beneath the Phoenix banner, stood a girl scarcely older than Leo and Lea.

Princess Luminaria.

Her pale golden hair fell in waves to her chest, catching the light that shone through the tall stained glass windows on either side of the room, while her dress shimmered pale white with crimson embroidery. At her side stood a woman most likely in her twenties, clad in a uniform of white and gold with a short sword at her hip — her attendant, posture steady, eyes sharp as if nothing escaped her notice.

The nobles bowed as one. The twins copied their parents, lowering themselves as best they could without looking too clumsy. Their knees wobbled, but they forced themselves to hold steady.

“Rise,” came the princess’s charming voice, soft but clear. She stepped forward, hands clasped before her, her composure startling for someone so young.

“I thank you all for coming,” she said, her vermillion red eyes scanning the group. “I know the journey for many was long, and the circumstances… are not what any of us would have wished, but I thank you for obliging with the invitation.”

Her gaze softened, almost imperceptibly. “The death of my father, the King, and my mother, the Queen, is still under investigation. The culprits remain unknown, but I know the cause of their demises… My father had his throat slit while strolling in one of the confines… he was left there for several minutes before anyone came across the body,” she told them, her voice trembling, eyes glossy.

“Then my mother, who was in her chamber, had been served a tea which was laced with a powerful venom which took her life instantly, is what I’m told. And we can be sure it wasn’t any of the staff since we have already done investigations into them.”

The attendant stepped forward then, her voice firmer, echoing through the chamber. “Be assured: every guard, every soldier, every investigator loyal to the Crown is pursuing this matter. We will not rest until the assassins are found. For now, Her Highness asks that you lend your presence and strength to the coronation, so the realm may see that unity remains and we have not fallen.”

Whispers rippled through the nobles, like the rustle of a wind through dry leaves. Heads leaned toward one another, words traded in hushed tones, but when silence returned, Luminaria continued, her tone warmer.

“I will not speak only of duty,” she said. “I look forward to getting to know each of you. Especially those of my own age. For though I must bear the weight of the throne, I am still just a girl as well. And I hope we may find friendship, not only politics, between us.”

Lea felt her chest tighten. To hear someone only a year older than her speak with such composure, and such loneliness beneath it — that broke something within her.

Leo, meanwhile, clenched his fists at his sides. She’s just a kid like us… but without half a lifetime of experiences, and yet she has to carry all this weight?

When the audience concluded, the nobility bowed once more before being dismissed. The princess remained on the dais, her figure outlined by the light pouring through the tall windows. Her small frame looked dwarfed by the throne behind her, as though the seat of power was far too large for the girl destined to fill it.