"Prince Haelis, you can't leave Elarion without the King's approval," Hanie, his loyal
friend and bodyguard, said firmly, stepping in to stop him from packing his clothes.
"I heard the Prince of Elarion is alive. I need to meet him, he's in danger. King Herald is planning something, and I have to warn him," Haelis replied, his voice steady with resolve.
He had waited for this moment for so long. His mother once whispered to him that the
prince still lived, and one day, they would meet. That time had finally come, but to do so, he needed to travel to Seravelle.
"You know he'll kill you if you leave," Hanie said, her voice tightening. "And if he ever
discovers how you made that land fertile again…"
"Hanie," Haelis interrupted gently, "I've already made the preparations. I'm leaving
tonight. Please… help me." His eyes, usually guarded, now shimmered with desperation and hope.
After a long pause, Hanie finally nodded. "Alright. But I'm going with you. Seravelle
isn't safe, King Herald has spies everywhere."
"I know," Haelis said, forcing a small, grateful smile. "Don't worry. I'll wait for you at the border."
Hanie sighed deeply, her heart aching as she looked at the young prince she had sworn
to protect. The same boy who had been mistreated, ignored, and nearly broken by
his own brother. If King Herald ever discovered Haelis's secret he will be in
great danger as well.
---
The long-awaited Northern Ball had finally arrived. Nobles from all across the Northern Domain gathered in the grand, radiant hall of the manor. Freshly picked flowers adorned the entrance, their scent mingling with
the crisp winter air. Guests gasped in admiration as they stepped inside,
astonished at how the once somber, fortress-like manor had transformed into a
warm, enchanting home.
Outside, snowflakes drifted gently from the sky like feathers, blanketing the grounds in shimmering white. Carriages had been
arriving since morning, their wheels crunching softly over the snow. Inside,
the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Servants moved swiftly and gracefully,
assisting guests, offering steaming cups of mulled wine, and ensuring every detail was perfect. Laughter and the soft hum of music began to fill the halls, melting away the cold that had once clung to the stone walls.
The Northern Manor, once a symbol of solitude and duty, now glowed with life, love, and celebration.
"Welcome to the North, my friend," Craige greeted Cassian warmly as they entered the grand hall.
"This place finally looks like a manor. I honestly thought it was just a border outpost before," Cassian teased with a chuckle, his eyes sweeping over the transformed space.
Craige laughed heartily and wrapped an arm around Luren's waist.
"Thanks to my duchess," he said proudly.
"Welcome to the North," Luren added with a gentle smile as he greeted both Cassian and Gab.
"Thank you," Gab replied, smiling politely. He followed quietly behind Cassian, keeping a respectful distance. They weren't being
affectionate, Gab knew all too well how quickly people could twist things into rumors about Cassian.
"Wow, this place actually feels like a home now," Arabelle exclaimed, stepping in with her husband with Faye and Codie eyes wide with wonder.
"I already said that, sister," Cassian called out with a grin, then instinctively reached for Gab's hand.
Gab flinched slightly, glancing around nervously as he tried to gently pull away.
"Cass_" he whispered under his breath, his eyes scanning the room, worried someone might be watching.
"Hey, it's okay. Look at Craige and Luren, they've been so sweet since we entered the manor," Cassian said warmly, pulling Gab a little closer, his voice soft with reassurance.
Luren caught Gab's eyes and offered a kind smile, nodding gently in silen encouragement, giving him permission to be himself, unapologetically.
Gab's cheeks flushed as he nodded back, shy but grateful. He leaned into Cassian's touch, slowly letting himself relax into the warmth of the moment.
"Don't be afraid, Gab," Arabelle chimed in with a gentle smile, picking up a glass of wine from a passing waiter. "Just be yourself.
You've been holding back for so long, you deserve to be happy."
"Come on, you should eat first," Luren added, motioning toward the grand main hall where the soft hum of laughter and conversation filled the air. The scent of warm food and the flicker of candlelight welcomed
them in, wrapping the moment in quiet celebration.
"Luren.." Marian and Kellen arrived together with Kal.
"Mother!" Luren exclaimed, rushing to hug them. "Welcome to the North, Uncle! And Kal, you've grown taller again," he added with a bright smile, pulling them into a warm embrace.
"Greetings, Your Grace," Kellen and Marian said respectfully to Craige.
"Welcome to the North," Craige replied with a nod, his tone warm but composed.
"Come on, let's go to Clara's table," Luren said cheerfully. Then he leaned closer to Craige and whispered, "I'll be there in a bit," before walking off with his family.
"Mother! Father!" Clara stood up and hugged them tightly, her eyes lighting up with joy. "What's up, lil' bro?" she teased, pinching Kal's cheek. Kal scrunched up his face in protest, making everyone chuckle.
"Welcome to the North," Keith said as he stood and gave a polite bow.
Clara beamed. "Family, meet my boyfriend, Keith Luxvaris," she announced proudly.
"Pleased to meet you," Keith said, bowing respectfully to her parents.
Marian's eyes softened as she smiled. "Well, it seems my daughter has found herself a reputable man."
Kellen gave Keith a playful but firm look. "Please take care of my naughty daughter. She can be a handful sometimes."
Keith let out a soft laugh. "Thank you, sir. I promise, I'll take good care of her."
Claren, Codie, and Faye had been running around, laughing and playing on the other side of the hall. But when they heard the sharp sound, they stopped, their eyes drawn to the center. Quietly, they sat down and
watched.
Cling, cling, cling.
The soft chime of a spoon tapping against a glass echoed through the grand hall, gently silencing the crowd. Conversations faded, and heads turned toward the sound.
As the last notes of laughter and chatter died down, Craige stepped forward. He walked with calm confidence to the center of the hall, the weight of everyone's attention settling on him. His gaze swept over the crowd, family, friends, nobles, gathered in warmth and anticipation. With a soft smile, he began to speak.
"I would like to welcome everyone to our very first Northern Ball," Craige said with firm authority, his voice echoing across the grand
hall.
Tonight was no ordinary night. The grand chandeliers glittered like starlight above, and the scent of fresh winter blooms lingered
in the air.
"Tonight is a special night," Craige continued, his tone softening. "You all know I'm not one for this kind of celebration… I'd rather be in the barracks with my knights, guarding the border. But everything changes
when a person falls in love."
A ripple of laughter and playful whistles swept through the guests as a faint blush crept into the Duke's cheeks—an unfamiliar sight that warmed the hearts of many.
Craige took a deep breath, pride rising in his chest.
"I know some of you may already be aware, but I want to formally introduce the person who changed everything for me, my future duchess. The one who will stand beside me, protecting and guiding the North with
strength and grace."
He extended a hand, gaze softening.
"Come here, baby."
Luren, standing off to the side, smiled shyly. A rosy tint colored his cheeks as he stepped forward and gently placed his hand in Craige's.
"Meet my Duchess and my fiancé, Luren Kaile Elarion," Craige declared, his voice ringing with pride.
A wave of cheers and thunderous applause erupted, echoing off the stone walls like a joyful storm.
"Cheers to the Duke and Duchess of this cold domain, now warmed by love and happiness!" Cassian called out boldly, raising his wine glass high. "Congratulations to both of you!"
"Cheers!" the crowd echoed, rising to their feet and clinking their glasses in celebration.
"Congratulations!!!" the nobles exclaimed in unison, their voices blending into a chorus of joy.
"Thank you, please enjoy the night," Craige announced warmly, raising his glass.
The music swelled as the orchestra played a gentle tune, and servants moved gracefully through the hall, serving food and wine to the
guests.
Suddenly, the grand doors creaked open. All eyes turned toward them.
A group of men entered, dressed in flowing white robes. At their lead was a striking figure, his long crimson hair cascading like fire against the pale fabric of his garments.
Arabelle's eyes widened. "What is he doing here?" she whispered sharply.
Craige's expression shifted. "They said they would come... I just didn't think it would be tonight," he muttered, already rising from his
seat.
He turned to Luren and extended a hand. "Come on, baby. Let's meet our guest."
Luren followed, eyes fixed on the red-haired man. There was something about him, something familiar. A name tugged at the edge of his memory.
"Welcome to the North. The temple must have sent you," Craige said, his voice calm but curious.
The man stepped forward confidently. "Greetings, Duke Craige Evron Seravelle," he replied, offering no bow, his rank, equal to Craige's, did not require it.
Luren's breath caught. His eyes widened as recognition dawned.
"Your... Desmond!?" he gasped, disbelief and surprise washing over his face.
Desmond's stern expression softened into a warm smile. "I'm glad you remember me, Luren," he said gently, his voice low and sincere.
"Let me introduce myself—I'm Archbishop Desmond, sent by the Temple," Desmond announced with a calm but firm voice as he stepped forward, his long red hair flowing behind the white robes.
"He is now the Duchess," Craige said sharply, his tone unyielding.
Desmond raised a brow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Did you get married?" he asked, eyes scanning the room before landing on Luren. "I believe I'm here to assess the situation surrounding this... union. This is a first in Seravelle, but since I'm close to Luren," he looked directly at Luren and offered a soft smile "I would like to see this in a positive light."
Craige's jaw tightened as he clenched his fists at his side. A thick tension wrapped around the room like a tightening rope.
"We don't need the approval of the Temple," Craige snapped, his voice low and cold.
Desmond chuckled, unbothered. "The Great Pope would not be pleased to hear you say that, Your Grace," he said, the smile never leaving his lips.
Sensing the rising hostility, Luren quickly stepped between them. "Please," he said gently, placing a hand on Craige's arm to calm him. "Let's sit down and talk about this later. Come this way, Archbishop Desmond."
His voice was calm but firm, his eyes pleading for peace as he led the archbishop away, hoping to defuse the growing storm.