The carriage ride from the Slatemark Academy to the Royal Palace was less of a journey and more of a slow transit through a living shrine. Julius sat against the plush white silk of the interior, his red eyes tracking the city through the enchanted glass. Every window in Avalon was draped with banners of gold and azure. As the royal crest rolled past, the streets did not just stop. They erupted. A group of children raced alongside the wheels, their faces flushed as they held up small charms woven from sun grass. Old men stood and bared their heads, their gazes moist with a pride that seemed to anchor the kingdom to the ground. Julius offered a wave, a simple motion of his hand, and the roar of the crowd through the glass was enough to make the carriage frame hum.
The vehicle came to a smooth halt in the grand courtyard of the palace. It was a sprawling expanse of white marble that had been polished until it reflected the sky like a mirror. Fountains carved into the shapes of celestial beasts sprayed water that had been infused with crushed lavender and mint, cooling the air and scenting it with the smell of a perpetual spring. Before the footmen could even reach the handle, the door was pulled wide with enough force to make the hinges sing.
"I have been staring at the clock since noon," Alaric boomed.
The Prince of Slatemark stepped out and his older brother intercepted him immediately. Alaric was a mountain of a man, eighteen years old and already a 5 star Knight. His golden aura did not just glow; it radiated a physical heat that made the courtyard feel significantly warmer. He reached in and ruffled Julius's blonde hair with a hand that could likely crush a helm, yet it moved with a tenderness that made it feel like a breeze. Alaric's grin was wide, his eyes fixed on his younger brother as if he were checking to see if Julius had grown an inch in the last few hours.
"Don't tell me you are actually happy to see me," Julius joked, his voice smooth and carrying a playful lilt. "I am certain the palace was much quieter without me around to distract everyone."
"It has been like a tomb," Alaric countered, throwing a massive arm around Julius's shoulders and leading him toward the grand entrance. "I was half tempted to ride to the Academy myself and drag you home early. The training grounds are not the same when I don't have you there to point out why my stance feels stiff."
"It is stiff because you are built like a siege tower, Alaric," a melodic voice interrupted.
Elena descended the grand staircase with the poise of a goddess. She was Alaric's twin, also eighteen and a 5 star Mage of immense repute. Her blonde hair flowed behind her like a river of gold. She did not walk so much as she glided, her gaze locked onto Julius with an intensity that spoke of her fierce protection. She bypassed the formal greeting entirely, pulling Julius out of Alaric's grip and into a firm embrace. She smelled of jasmine and expensive catalysts. Her hands cupped his face, her violet eyes scanning his features for any sign of fatigue.
"You look like you have been working too hard," Elena said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Did those instructors bore you again? If they are overworking you with those basic theories, I will have a word with the Dean. You should not have to spend your days explaining the obvious to people who cannot see what is right in front of them."
"They are just doing their jobs, Elena," Julius replied, smiling as he pulled back just enough to breathe. "And I am fine. It is actually quite fun to watch them try to organize the entire star system into neat little boxes."
As they moved toward the interior, a small army of staff fell into step behind them. At the head of the group was Elara, Julius's personal maid. She was a woman in her late twenties who had been with him since his birth. She did not speak unless spoken to, but her eyes never left him. When Julius shifted his weight to adjust his cloak, she was there before he could even reach for the clasp. She took the garment with a focused efficiency, her movements practiced and sure.
The walk to the private wing was a gauntlet of attention. Knights of the Royal Guard stood at attention along the corridors. These were 4 star elites, veterans of dozens of skirmishes within the Central Continent, yet as Julius passed, their stern expressions softened. They offered respectful nods, their eyes following the boy with a look of genuine admiration. They saw in Julius the potential that their kingdom had been waiting for, a talent so pure it made their own years of training feel like a worthwhile endeavor just to be his vanguard.
They reached the Queen's private solar, a room bathed in the soft, warm glow of enchanted lanterns. The Queen rose quickly from her seat near the hearth, her blonde hair held by pins made of solid crystals. She crossed the room to pull Julius into an embrace that felt as though she were trying to shield him from the world itself.
"My sun," she whispered, her hands tracing the lines of his shoulders. "The palace is too quiet when you are away. I find myself waiting for the sound of your voice. Come, sit. You must tell me about your day. If anyone at that Academy was lacking in their manners, you have to tell me."
"Everyone was perfectly kind, Mother," Julius said, allowing himself to be led to a chair carved from white oak.
"She is a good girl, that Isabella," the Queen said, sitting beside him and patting his hand. "But she is quite ambitious. I hope she is not tiring you out with all that talk of study. You already know more than most of the masters. You should be enjoying yourself, not worrying about the complexities of mana flow."
The dinner that followed was a display of Slatemark's unearned prosperity. The table was set with porcelain so thin it was translucent, and the silver cutlery caught the light of the massive chandeliers. They ate the finest meats and fruits the Central Continent had to offer, luxury imported from provinces that Slatemark protected through gold and reputation rather than blood. The conversation flowed easily, centered entirely on Julius's comfort and his future. To his family, the rest of the continent barely existed. The vampire lords of the north were a distant myth, kept at bay by mountain ranges and ancient treaties. The wars of the central plains were nothing more than ink on a map.
The King arrived last. He was a 7 star practitioner, a man whose presence felt like a grounding force for the entire room. He walked over to Julius and placed a heavy, warm hand on his shoulder.
"The kingdom is quiet tonight, Julius," the King said, taking his seat at the head of the table. "It is a peace we have maintained through careful work and a bit of luck. It is a peace that is centered around you. You are the greatest talent this bloodline has seen in generations. Never forget that."
Julius looked around the table at his siblings, his mother, and his father. He saw the worship in their eyes, the absolute certainty that he was the key to their continued paradise. He offered them a warm, charming smile and shared a story about a particularly stubborn lily in the academy gardens. He played his part perfectly, the beloved prince of a gilded world. Yet, as the laughter filled the room, he felt the three stars in his chest remain perfectly cool. The luxury, the protection, and the obsessive love felt like a beautiful, static painting. It was comfortable. It was safe. But as he looked at the high, white walls of the palace, he couldn't help but feel that the air inside was just a little too still.