As I stood in the grand hall, the golden chandeliers above shimmered like captured stardust, their enchanted glow casting a warm radiance across the massive ballroom. Nobles dressed in extravagant attire moved about in graceful motions, laughter, and chatter blending into a soft murmur that filled the air. The faint melodies of a violin and flute played harmoniously in the background, setting the perfect ambiance for a royal gathering.
I scanned the crowd, noting various influential figures of the kingdom. Dukes, marquesses, viscounts—every noble family of significance was present. Near the elevated stage where the royal family would soon make their entrance, a group of mages in ceremonial robes stood, their presence alone enough to command respect. Among them was Calis Senur, the old woman who had taken an interest in me outside the castle. She was now deep in conversation with my Dad and Liam, their expressions unreadable.
Elvina, standing beside Mom, was bouncing excitedly on her feet. "Big brother," she whispered, tugging at my sleeve. "When we will start eating like others are?"
I chuckled, ruffling her hair. "Soon, Elvi. Just be patient."
Mom smiled gently, placing a hand on Elvina's shoulder to calm her down. Meanwhile, Master was off to the side, enjoying a glass of wine as he casually observed the crowd, his sharp golden eyes never missing a single detail.
I moved from there leaving the Aurora near Elvina and stood near the wall. I was just seeing everyone.
I thought, 'Ah! This is good. The best time is always being alone.'
Suddenly, the sound of a staff striking the marble floor echoed throughout the hall, and silence followed almost instantly. A herald stepped forward, his voice carrying through the chamber with practiced authority.
"His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Arian Vaelruth, and His Majesty, King Regnard Vaelruth!"
As they announced I went forward a little.
All eyes turned toward the grand staircase as King Regnard, ruler of the Human Kingdom, made his entrance.
Dressed in deep crimson robes lined with gold embroidery, he walked with the kind of authority that didn't need to be announced. His sharp, intelligent eyes swept over the hall, assessing everything with the keen gaze of a ruler. He carried himself with a dignity that made it clear—this was a man accustomed to wielding power.
Beside him was Prince Arian, his silver hair glinting under the warm glow of the artifacts. His yellow eyes, sharp like a falcon's, scanned the hall as if evaluating everything at once. He was about my age.
Walking gracefully behind them were the Queen and the Princess.
The Queen, regal and poised, bore the same silver hair as her son, but her eyes were a deep, piercing crimson. She carried herself with the confidence of someone who had seen much of the world and remained unshaken by it.
Then, there was the Princess.
Her long, flowing black hair shimmered under the light, cascading down her back like liquid silk. Her crimson eyes, darker than her Mom's, seemed as though they held the essence of pure flowing blood. She was beautiful, undeniably so, but there was something distant about her, as though she wasn't fully present in the room.
But the humans weren't the only ones attending tonight.
As if on cue, another entrance opened, and through it stepped the rulers of the Elven Kingdom.
The Elven King moved with an effortless grace that made it seem as though he floated rather than walked. His silver hair, a shade lighter than starlight, framed his chiseled features, and his emerald-green eyes gleamed with wisdom that only the long-lived could possess. His presence alone silenced whispers as if the very air demanded reverence when he stepped forward.
Beside him walked the Elven Queen, a vision of elegance. Her long, flowing silver hair matched her husband's, her beauty timeless and ethereal. She moved with a quiet dignity, her emerald eyes soft yet calculating.
But my attention was drawn to the figure beside them.
The Elven Princess. She was… stunning.
Her emerald-green eyes seemed to glow softly under the lights, filled with curiosity and strength. Unlike her parents, who carried an air of timeless wisdom, she radiated something different-youth, but not inexperience. There was a fire within her, a presence that was uniquely her own.
Then came the Dwarven Royal Family.
The Dwarven King entered with heavy steps that carried the weight of a warrior's presence. His broad frame was clad in intricately crafted gold-lined armor, his crimson cape draped over his shoulders. His thick red beard, braided in elaborate patterns, was a symbol of his status. He had the look of a man who had seen countless battles and emerged victorious every time.
Walking beside him was the Dwarven Queen, her presence just as commanding. Though dwarves were known for their strength and resilience, there was a refined grace to her movements. She wore fine royal attire, her braided golden hair shimmering under the hall's lights.
Their son, the Dwarven Prince, stood tall—well, as tall as a dwarf could be. He had his Dad's warrior presence but carried himself with a composed patience that spoke of a ruler in the making. Unlike many hot-blooded young nobles, he was calm, observing everything carefully.
And finally, the last to enter were the rulers of the Beastman Kingdom.
The Beastman King strode in, and even without his title, his presence alone would have made it clear—this was a ruler, a conqueror. His golden fur ears gleamed under the light. Unlike the regal composure of the other kings, his aura was untamed, raw strength barely restrained beneath the surface.
The Beastman Queen walked beside him, her beauty fierce rather than delicate. With sharp features and eyes that mirrored her husband's, she radiated an aura of authority that made it clear she was no less powerful than the king himself.
And then there were the Beastman Princes.
Two boys, both calm, their golden eyes mirroring their Dad's sharpness. Though young, they carried themselves with a composed grace, watching the hall with quiet observation. Unlike their Dad's imposing presence, they exuded an almost unsettling stillness, as though they were waiting for the right moment to move.
As the royal families gathered, the hall felt heavier—not with tension, but with significance. This wasn't just a celebration.
It was a display of power.
Each ruler had come not just to honor the Human Prince's birthday but to remind the world of their presence, to reassert the balance that kept the continents in order.
Then I went near the wall again and leaned.
And after some time, I felt a gaze upon me.