(3rd Person POV)
Arthur gazed at Lucy, standing stiffly with Arnold and Bobby flanking her on either side. Their eyes glinted with a faint, unnatural light — the unmistakable hue of Sinful Magic.
To their silent hostility, Arthur offered only a calm, almost amused smile.
'They've grown stronger since the last time I saw them,' he mused inwardly, narrowing his gaze slightly. 'But if they think they can intimidate me with that scrap of power, they're still a thousand years too early.'
Beyond his siblings' presence, Arthur's senses quietly swept over the entire hall.
With the help of the Force, he detected the auras of every person in the castle — from the stationed royal guards to the high-profile guests, and even the stealthily hidden secret guards watching from the shadows.
His awareness reached even further, effortlessly registering the presence of Queen Lily, his mother, as well as his older brother, Azazel. The Force let him perceive their strengths clearly. And from what he sensed — his elder brother's power had already far surpassed Lily's.
The best part? Not a single soul in the room could sense his true magical energy. That was the brilliance of the Force — cloaking his presence while giving him insight others couldn't begin to imagine.
The only one who still remained elusive… was King Luke.
'Strange,' Arthur thought, eyes flickering toward the king. 'Even with the Force, I can't get a full read on him…' He suspected the king was using some kind of magical artifact to veil his true power.
He could use his advanced skills — Divine Eyes or Divine Insight — to uncover the truth. But both carried risks.
Activating Divine Eyes would make his golden irises turn scarlet, potentially drawing attention. And even though Divine Insight was more subtle, it could trigger a reaction from the artifact or someone sensitive enough to detect the shift in magical frequencies.
'Best not to draw attention to myself,' Arthur thought, keeping his power concealed and his expression composed.
Meanwhile, Lucy's frown deepened. She felt the slight, and she didn't like it one bit.
'This arrogant bastard... Acting as if he's above us now. He dares to ignore me?' Her thoughts were bitter, her pride quietly bruised.
Just as the tension simmered, a sudden, radiant smile lit up the room.
Apollonia came rushing forward, her expression glowing with joy. She barely cared for formalities — she went straight into a warm hug.
"You really came!" she beamed, her voice bubbling with happiness.
Arthur blinked, surprised by the sudden embrace, but his expression softened as he smiled. "Little sister," he chuckled. "You're hugging me like you don't want to let go."
With eyes slightly misty, Apollonia clutched him tighter. "I've been waiting for this… I hated it when you ignored me at the Alicorn Auction."
Arthur's brows eased as he patted her gently. "Forgive me. That wasn't my intention."
Apollonia smiled up at him, and for a moment, the hall's coldness faded. But then a voice broke the warmth.
"It's because you're not part of the family anymore… is that why you kept your distance from us?"
Arthur turned his head toward the familiar voice — Azazel stood there, watching him carefully.
His tone was calm, but there was a trace of something else underneath — curiosity, perhaps even regret.
Arthur met Azazel's gaze for a brief moment. He thought about answering—honestly, even—but something held him back. Instead, he gave a calm, unreadable smile.
Azazel looked faintly surprised by the lack of a reply, but instead of pressing further, he simply returned the smile in silence.
Just behind him, however, stood Enril.
His expression had darkened, especially after watching Apollonia rush into Arthur's arms, her face bright with joy. Though Arthur was her brother, Enril hated seeing her so openly affectionate toward another man—especially in front of the entire court.
His fists clenched slightly, and his eyes narrowed—not at Apollonia, but at Firfel, who stood gracefully beside Arthur in silence. In that moment, a new idea flickered through his mind.
His stiff expression suddenly shifted into a suave smile as he stepped forward, completely ignoring Arthur.
He bowed slightly and extended a hand toward Firfel. "A beautiful lady," he said smoothly. "May I have this dance?"
Firfel turned her head slowly to face him, her expression unreadable. Even Yoda, standing beside them, glanced up in mild curiosity.
The music in the hall had begun to play, soft and elegant.
Some guests looked on with amused interest. It wasn't surprising. The public already knew the crown prince of Thorn Kingdom had a reputation for being a shameless flirt.
But many eyes immediately turned toward Arthur. Ever since The Return of the King premiered, rumors had swirled about his relationship with Firfel—and the chemistry between them in the film only fueled it further.
Arthur didn't move, his expression calm—but his gaze sharpened slightly. He didn't like the way Enril looked at Firfel. Not one bit.
Still, he remained composed, as a practitioner of the Force should. 'Composure is strength,' he reminded himself silently.
Then Firfel, cool and poised, spoke.
"Sorry," she said, her voice as crisp as glass, "but I don't dance with strangers."
Arthur's lips curved into a smile.
Enril's extended hand hung awkwardly in the air. A faint twitch of his brow betrayed his frustration.
To make matters worse, Apollonia turned toward him and added sharply, "The dance hasn't even started, and you're already making invitations? Try reading the room, Enril."
A few gasps rippled through the hall, followed by muffled laughter.
"I..." Enril faltered. He gave a forced chuckle, trying to brush it off. "Haha… you're right, of course."
He turned back to Firfel and offered a polite nod. "My apologies, Lady Firfel."
And then, unexpectedly, Yoda stepped forward, speaking for the first time in his usual tone—voice low, but sharp as a blade.
"Control himself, a young man must. Swayed by beauty so easily… worse than a fool, it is."
The room went silent for a beat—then chuckles and laughter followed from several corners.
Enril's jaw clenched. He felt heat crawling up his neck. But he forced himself to laugh along, even if awkwardly.
Then he turned his glare toward Yoda. "And who's this little goblin? Who let you in here?"
Yoda looked up at him, calm as ever. "A guest, I am. But manners, still a stranger to you, hmm?"
The laughter around them only grew louder.
Arthur said nothing—but the smirk playing on his lips was answer enough.
Enril's face flushed red, his pride stinging under the weight of laughter echoing through the hall. He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his composure. But deep down, the humiliation gnawed at him.
Without a word, he flicked his fingers toward one of his subordinates — a towering, broad-shouldered demon who stepped forward.
The orc-demon's suit strained against his massive muscles, seams practically ready to burst. His tusks protruded slightly beneath his sharp lips, and his eyes glinted with hostility as he stepped into view.
He stared directly at Yoda, letting out a low, gravelly chuckle.
"Heh… To think a tiny little goblin with ears like that would have the guts to insult my prince," he said with a sneer. "You're either very brave… or very stupid."
He raised his wine glass, massive in his hand, and yet it trembled — not from fear, but from the sheer force of his grip. The liquid inside sloshed violently, splashing against the rim like a wave crashing on stone.
Guests around them tensed slightly, watching the orc-demon's approach. Some exchanged glances, unsure whether to intervene or step back and let the tension unfold.
Yoda, however, stood unmoved.
His small frame looked almost laughable before the towering brute. But his posture remained relaxed, his eyes calm, as if he hadn't even heard the threat.
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained still — waiting to see what Yoda would do next.