The bustling, lively town square of the empire's high-streets, were teeming with wealthy and well-bred citizens. Of course, considering the event which was to take place in two weeks time, it was only expected that those of illustrious backgrounds, ventured out to tailor new dresses or battle for new gowns and suits.
It seemed the people were eager to make a good impression on Prince Daniel.
A handsome, elegantly-dressed man in particular, watched on from a pristine ivory fountain, at the frantic aristocrats who were entering all the boutiques like a swarm of bees returning to their hive.
Dressed in a long white coat, decorated with silver threading and a simple chained brooch - draped at his shoulders, a simple yet tasteful blouse and trousers underneath. Cascading silver hair tucked perfectly behind an ear, with an exquisite, aquamarine earring perfectly matching the colour of his eyes.
Many of the women who happened to see the young bachelor, stared on at him with interest.
"Isn't that Marquess Cherliann?"
"What's he doing all the way out here?"
"He's so handsome...!"
An individual renowned throughout the empire for his ever-growing, stunningly attractive features. Tall, slender yet muscular in stature, with quite the elaborate sense of style. He was well-liked by both men and women alike for his personality as well as his looks — a refreshing contrast to his fear-inducing father.
The young man glanced toward those gossiping little lambs who could be heard from a mile away, causing them to jolt on their feet in surprise. But his gorgeous face was only graced with a gentle, amicable smile.
They squealed in delight at this action, not realising the real subject of his attention was actually the cloaked, shadowy figure of a man who was approaching from their direction.
Rayvis Arvel Cherliann, the eldest son of Duke Cherliann and his heir, was one of the most highly-sought after young bachelors in the empire despite still having two years left till his coming of age. Albeit young, he earned the title of Marquess through his eminent capabilities, both in the field of battle and handling political affairs.
It was rumoured that Rayvis Cherliann was also the leading figure of a secret guild, which was involved in the darker, more dangerous areas of Laydel. But whether this was true or not, was still questionable.
"So, do you care to explain why you're creating a mess among your own subjects, Sir Leon?" The silver-haired marquess asked, once the cloaked man finally approached him. Beneath his hood, a pair of ocean-blue orbs framed by long, dark lashes were focused on Rayvis with an indifferent, steely gaze.
The shops nearby were beginning to grow boisterous from the war happening between noblewomen, who had their eyes on the same dresses. A discordant cluster of nobles trying to fight for new clothes was creating a scene completely unlike anything they had ever witnessed.
Rayvis couldn't hold back his laughter.
Aristocrats were always the type to peruse and shop at their own pace, but now - it was akin to watching wolves fighting for a single piece of meat. All this to look good in front of the first prince, who they dubbed a runaway not too long ago.
And said prince was standing only several metres away, posing as a commoner.
This really is hilarious.
"I just wanted to help some honourable merchants sell their fine silks," he sighed, as strands of ebony hair peaked from beneath the hood. "With this, there's a high demand for quality fabric during a time there's not enough for everyone. So some of these nobles have no choice but to buy from the merchants they once scorned."
Rayvis chuckled in amusement. "But those Izadellian merchants are selling much higher quality fabrics than what we already have," He raised a slender hand up to his lips. "It seems our future emperor is the type to discipline his people well."
Glancing up at the marquess beside him, Daniel heaved a small sigh. "It was you who suggested I lived among the common people for that reason. This kind of outcome is exactly what you Cherlianns wanted, is it not?" His gaze sharpened a little bit. "They don't call you the empire's watchdogs for nothing."
Rayvis lifted his gloved hand up in an idle wave. "I can't be a suitable weapon without having a sharp edge, can I?" A faint twinkle of rascality lit up those sky-blue eyes as he shrugged. "You are my future after all, Your Highness."
Those words elicited a look of slight disgust from the prince. "Please don't say it like that."
Rayvis laughed at this, silvery locks of straight hair falling over a broad shoulder. "Oh? Come on now! If you can't handle me, how do you expect to get along with your future empre-"
"Anyway, I'll be taking my leave now." Daniel interjected, already tired of Rayvis' teasing. As he gently tugged the hood concealing his identity further over his face, he swiftly swept by and disappeared into the shadow of a passing crowd of nobles.
In turn, the silver-haired man only chuckled with lips curling up into a slightly devious smirk. Things are going to start getting more interesting from now on.
Meanwhile — on a carriage several streets away, a pair of curious golden eyes gazed out at the view from the window in wonderment. Flocks of nobles were everywhere, which was truly a sight to behold. Considering how many people were clustering amid the streets, Irene wasn't too confident they would be able to find many things that hadn't already been bought.
Then again, the Cherlianns were arguably the most influential house in Laydel as of now. They would likely be given immediate access to the highest-quality fineries simply by showing up.
Mikael sat silently beside the white-haired girl, and on the cushioned seat opposite them, the Duchess of Cherliann was situated, as she admired the view just like her daughter.
"It definitely is livelier than usual, don't you think?" Sarah asked, her tone amazed.
"To think the people are this desperate to look good in front of Prince Daniel..." Irene pondered for a moment, both in awe of that fact whilst simultaneously unsurprised. Considering the first prince took after his mother, he was very much well-loved by the nation since his birth. The people must have been waiting a very long time in anticipation, for him to finally take over.
"So, Your Highness, how do you feel?" Sarah asked the blonde, leaning her head in the palm of her hands as she smiled excitedly. "Soon the entire Empire is going to meet Prince Daniel. Aren't you looking forward to seeing your brother?"
He hesitated for a moment, gaze downturned and fixed to his feet. Irene surveyed his expression, and there was a look of reluctance in Mikael's pristine blue eyes.
"I'm not sure what to expect." Was all he responded with. For some reason, he seemed a little bit down.
As she pondered about the reason why, the wheels beneath their seats crunched gingerly over the gravelly road, before pulling to a stop at a parking lot for nobles' transportation. Outside, numerous faces marvelled at the sight of the grand Cherliann's silver carriage.
"My Lady, we have arrived." A muffled voice echoed from outside, and the three soon alighted whilst ignoring the onlookers who admired from afar.
A tall, old building built with a historical grandeur stood nearby, and Irene smiled at the familiar sight of those mahogany exterior walls and alabaster pillars.
The Imperial Library of Laydel — A facility renowned for its collection of volumes upon volumes of books — written by the most illustrious of scholars, across the vast length of Laydel's history. Politics, laws, progression, economics or encyclopaedias, gathered over the years and were kept as treasures here in this sphere of knowledge.
It was protected by both the imperial name and the magic tower - two of the most influential bodies in the country. Irene always came here whenever she wished to peruse for more books or find inspiration, but there was still a significant hole in the art of fiction in this world.
Thankfully, the publishing house inside the library was more than willing to have the people read books for entertainment, rather than solely for factual knowledge.
There was even a proverb, "One who steps into the Imperial Library as a caterpillar, steps out as a varicoloured butterfly."
Holding her book tightly in her arms, Irene turned to her mother and smiled.
"I'm going to go and pay a visit to the publishing house," she smiled, pointing to the large, securely guarded landmark. "You go on ahead without me, I'll join you in a moment."
Although aware Irene was someone who could handle being by herself, Sarah's blue eyes still displayed a hint of concern for her daughter. "You should take a guard just in case."
But before Irene could even hear those words, she had already whirled on her heel and flew over to the grand library by herself. Sarah sighed, deciding to let it slide simply because there were many guards located around the building either way. And one thing Laydel assuredly did not lack - was security.
Although it was customary for women to always have a knight accompanying them when they went outdoors — those rules never really applied to the Cherlianns.
Mikael's gaze followed her for a moment, before Sarah held her hands together and smiled at her escort. "I guess it's just the two of us for now! We can shop for dresses with Irene later, so how about we go and visit the men's boutique?"
"Alright." He nodded his head, flinching slightly when the duchess reached out and pet his hair with a gentle, motherly touch. Mikael always feared physical contact with people, but when it came to those who cared for him — it wasn't a terrible feeling at all.
"You've grown so tall in such a short time! We'll need to have you measured again," Sarah chortled, linking her arm with the prince and beginning to walk with him down the stony pavement. "Boys your age seem to sprout so quickly - it won't be long until you're a fully-grown man. We should make the most of your cuteness while it lasts!"
Mikael blinked, wondering if this sort of conversation was even appropriate for them to have, considering their formal positions. But the duchess had always been open and loving towards him, and gave him the experience of what having a gentle mother felt like. Although he never did admit it out loud, Mikael certainly enjoyed her doting on him - if even a little bit.
As they disappeared into the streets to find clothes of exquisite quality for Mikael to wear, Irene had already made it into the publishing house. She handed her next volume promptly to a member of staff she trusted there; a former servant who worked for the Cherlianns, and found a new job at the grand library of Laydel whilst keeping contact with the young Princess of the duchy.
Of course, she did pay them for their hard work, maintaining a mutually lucrative agreement.
Although many did recognise Irene Cherliann passing by — for her strikingly unique golden eyes and ivory-white hair, they assumed she, like all other young noblewomen these days, had become interested in exploring the romantic field of fiction which had emerged since Ivory Locke first published their work.
Soon after she had delivered the finished volume safely, Irene decided to head back and rendezvous with her mother and Prince Mikael. Not much time had passed, so she surmised they would still be nearby. Momentarily after egressing the library, Irene gingerly made her way through the open square toward the direction Mikael and Sarah had gone.
The streets were teeming with life - the elaborate dresses of nobles shopping for clothes, a cacophony of colours and voices which seemed to brighten the street. Daniel's announcement seemed to have been circulating amongst the many conversations she could hear as she sauntered past.
As she turned the corner towards another line of shops, Irene paused at the sound of an unpleasant, jeering voice shouting nearby. Her eyes swept over the stalls in its direction, before she found the owner of the cacophony.
"Who do you think you are, boy?! Trying to steal my quality jewels!" A loud man with a booming voice growled, and Irene could feel her brows narrowing at the sight of a little boy being held at the collar. He violently shook his fist, causing the small child to struggle against his grasp.
From the looks of his clothes, it seemed that the man was a regular merchant trying to sell jewels, as his stall was brimming with brooches and pins in all shapes and colours.
"I'm not stealing! You're the one who sold us something fake and ripped us off!" The little boy, seemingly a commoner from his unkempt appearance, protested in turn. "I went to pawn the necklace you sold my mother, you scammed her, didn't you? Give us our money back!"
Irene clenched her fists, realising the man was about to throw the boy as soon as he swept him off the ground. Just as he was about to hurt him, she felt herself intervening.
The anger in her eyes cloaked by an amiable, perfect smile. Irene wore the mask of courtesy, carrying herself as any noble of high standing would, before approaching the merchant hurriedly.
"Excuse me! I'm looking to buy this gemstone."
As soon as she captured his attention, the man let the boy down and held his hands together. "Oh my! My apologies for this unseemly appearance of mine whilst dealing with a thief," he bowed his head. "You have an excellent eye! This is a finely-maintained yellow sapphire which has been treated to enhance its colour and quality. It's worth two-thousand gold."
"Don't listen to this man!" The child interjected, his eyes filled with honest perturbation. "He's a fraud!"
"Of course, I don't expect everyone to understand the true worth of a quality gem," the salesman's voice did not even attempt to hide the hostility towards the child. But he grinned at Irene in such a forced, desperate manner. "I'm sure your keen eye would agree, My Lady."
When Irene gazed over the gemstones on display - it was true that the items certainly were of good quality. Upon first glance, she was sure no one would be able to spot the difference between a real gem and one of these ones.
But as she lifted the yellow sapphire between her fingertips, holding it high in the air and allowing the sun's light to pass through — it became clear to her that the child wasn't lying.
"How much did you say this was worth? Two thousand?" She asked, just to make sure she heard him correctly.
"That's right, My Lady."
Irene smiled cordially, setting the so-called sapphire back down on the velvety surface of the stall's table. Her golden eyes sharpened, fixated on the man with an unrelenting gaze. "I think you should have these appraised again by a progressional jeweller."
The man fell into silence, and his smile slowly faded from his lips. "...I'm sorry?"
"Natural gemstones reflect light and have different structures to that of synthetic ones," Irene crossed her arms, her expression turning cold and unrelenting. "Unfortunately with these, it is rather hard to tell they are fake. But surely you didn't think you could fool everyone with this cheap trick, did you?"
The man became visibly aggravated, and Irene noticed it too. The little commoner boy became even more frightened, taking a step back at the realisation that the merchant's face was now red with rage.
"You little wench, you think you know more than me?! Don't tell me how to do my business!" He suddenly roared, but Irene kept her composure. In fact, she was internally thanking God for Rudien not being present; there was no way this merchant would have been able to live to see tomorrow, if he heard someone insult her like that.
"Business? Can you even call it a business when you're just scamming people to gain wealth?" Irene crossed her arms, still maintaining her coolness. Albeit small in size compared to the giant man, she was still able to face him squarely. "At most, these are worth no more than two-hundred silvers. Although, they are convincing fakes, so I can see why this ruse earned you money."
"Why you little—!!"
Just then, the man raised a hand up and loomed over the table with every intention of attacking Irene.
Now that wasn't a smart decision.
She stayed completely still, a nonchalant look in her eyes as the gigantic fist hurled closer toward her. But just as she was about to step swiftly back and dodge the clumsy attack, she felt her back pressing against someone who suddenly appeared from behind.
Smack!!
Her eyes widened in awe. Irene stared at the slender hand which stopped the main's punch just before it could hit her square in the face. Her soft white hair fell over her shoulders as she slowly turned to face the person who intervened, but all she could see was a completely shrouded figure over her shoulder.
A tall, imposing presence. His gloved hand had long, thin yet beautiful fingers - which looked like they could snap if the merchant moved any further. And yet — he single-handedly prevented the man's attack simply by grabbing his fist.
Irene could still feel the hooded stranger's cool figure against her back. He was standing close, in a protective manner, and although she couldn't see his face, something about his presence felt oddly familiar.
"Raising a hand against a noble is punishable by law," a low, masculine voice - but still the voice of a young man. Something about the way he spoke so calmly, despite the venom dripping from his tone, left her in silent admiration. "And so is fraud."
The giant merchant attempted to break his fist free from the young man's grasp, but struggled to even budge from his position. "L-Let go of my hand!"
Irene flinched, slightly shocked when a look of complete horror etched onto the merchant's face, and the stranger's grip only tightened. It was then an unpleasant click of the knuckles could be heard, and the merchant broke out into a shrill cry of agony.
All he did was squeeze it - and it broke his hand?!
Just how strong is this guy?!
The mortified cacophony of the man's cries instantaneously gathered the attention of nearby knights who were approaching whilst on patrol, and they rapidly hurried over to the stall with faces painted in concern. "What is going on here? Sir Leon?"
"This man is suspected of fraud, and also attempted to attack a noble. See to it that he is investigated and locked up for interrogation."
A curt response, followed by the young man swiftly forcing the merchant to surrender by catching him in an arm lock, and shoving him roughly towards the knights in a single manoeuvre. The merchant only bellowed in outrage, attempting to resist — but soon taken into the custody of the soldiers who handcuffed him.
"Leave it to us, Sir Leon!"
Irene blinked, slightly confused. The knights are affiliated with the Cherlianns, but I've never heard of a "Sir Leon" among the upper ranks...
As the two watched the knights walk off with the restrained merchant in tow, Irene found herself glancing up at the cloaked man beside her in suspicion. He isn't dressed in the uniform of a knight, yet they followed his orders without question... Who is he?
Noticing the pair of eyes searing through his hood, the man turned slowly to face Irene. "Are you hurt, My Lady?"
She shook her head. "Thank you for helping me... Although I would have managed just fine on my own."
Sir Leon seemed rather surprised by those words, exuding such straightforward confidence, and Irene noticed him tilt his head a little bit. "That man was a giant. Forgive my brazenness, My Lady, but I'm sure it would have been difficult for anyone to manage receiving a hit from him."
He says that but isn't he the one who wrecked the merchant's wrist??
Irene smiled sheepishly, slightly unsure of how to even respond to that. "W-Well... I may not look it, but I'm capable of holding my own in a fight!"
Leon didn't seem too convinced. "Oh, really?" Was all he responded with, but Irene could sense the sarcasm in his neutral tone — whether intentional or not.
"Of course. I would have dodged and easily forced him to subdue. I didn't train for four years for nothing!"
He remained silent for a few seconds, as though needing to process those words again to actually believe her. Irene could tell he was slightly amused, because for a moment, she could see a pair of lips curving up into a faint smile from beneath the hood of his mantle.
"It seems you still say brutal things despite being so small."
...Huh?
...Wait a moment...
Irene was startled by the wave of recognition she felt in those words - as if she heard them somewhere before, but couldn't put a finger on where. Her thoughts whirling, her golden eyes studied the shrouded figure in suspicion.
"...Have we met before?" Her question elicited a faint hum to resound from beneath his hood.
To make things easier for her, Sir Leon raised an arm up to his head, gently bringing back the hood ever so slightly. It was then that the fabric of his cloak ruffled higher up on his head.
And in that moment, Irene's body froze up in surprise.
Deep, blue irises akin to the depths of a clear ocean at night, framed by sharp lashes adorning those almond-shaped eyes. A long nose and rose-tinted lips, with skin as smooth and silky as honey. Strong brows, arched over his eyes and gave him an intimidating, imposing aura - but his stunningly gorgeous features perfectly embraced the steely elements of his face. Cleanly cut strands of ebony hair, curled beautifully around his face and strong neck.
An individual who's features were unique and foreign in comparison to the pale-faced people of Laydel. His face was indeed going to be enough to cause an uproar amongst the aristocracy. Irene had seen her fair share of beautiful faces — but this person was certainly on a different level.
"Do you recognise me now?"
I knew it...
It really is him.
There was no doubt about it — no matter how much he grew or how hard puberty hit him, there was no way Irene wouldn't recognise the male lead of her own story. As she smiled up at him courteously, eyes desperately tried to avoid gazing upon his face for too long.
"It's been a long time, Prince Daniel."