Chapter 21
Dmitri stood in the distance, the sunset at his back.
He was so wonderful that the fragile confidence Reyna had managed to stitch together could have crumbled at once.
His doublet was a deep navy velvet cut perfectly to his frame.
The shoulders and chest gleamed with intricate embroidery and delicate goldwork.
Beneath it, the white silk shirt shimmered faintly under the dying light of the sun.
It was unfamiliar, yet breathtakingly elegant.
Who would dare imagine that beneath such flawless perfection lay so many wounds?
Suddenly, Ariella found she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze.
Instead, she fixed her eyes on the golden brooch fastening his cloak.
The crest of the imperial family was carved into it with painstaking detail.
“You…”
She slowly lifted her head.
Dmitri’s handsome face was faintly lined with tension.
“What is this?”
The very first words upon seeing her were What is this?
Ariella’s expression crumpled to match.
“I am Your Highness’s consort, in case you forgot.”
But Dmitri only stared at her, not moving to escort her, his eyes hot enough to burn.
The exposed skin of her neck flushed scarlet beneath the intensity of his gaze.
Thank heavens the sun was setting.
“Who played this kind of trick on you?”
Ariella whipped her head toward him.
“This is not a trick.
It’s called proper attire.”
Even with her sharp retort, Dmitri’s displeasure showed plain as day.
“I know I look strange.
So stop staring.”
“…”
“Are you not going to escort me?”
Only then did he extend his arm, guiding her into the carriage.
Even after he sat across from her, Dmitri never once took his eyes off her.
His long legs crossed, chin resting on his hand, brow drawn tightly as though in a constant scowl.
“You’re irritating.”
“What is?”
“Do you really need to ask?”
“Oh, I see.
My appearance today must be terribly boring to Your Highness.”
“Yes.
Right now, you’re not amusing in the slightest.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
Ariella turned her face to the window.
Still, she could feel his eyes on her.
Whatever it was that unsettled him, it refused to leave his face.
Finally, unable to endure the obvious stare, Ariella looked back at him.
“All women dress this way.
Especially on a day that calls for greater formality.
And you, Your Highness, are no less splendidly attired.”
“I know.”
“If you know, then why?”
“I wonder… other women dress like this too, yet why does it bother me so much when you do?”
“And you’re asking me that?”
“Perhaps… because you’re mine.”
Mine?
What?
Me?
It was like being struck in the back of the head with something blunt and heavy.
She was so stunned, words simply failed her.
Dmitri, meanwhile, looked perfectly calm, as if nothing he had said was at all strange.
It’s because he’s young.
Too young.
Or maybe… do all the young say such things without a care?
The carriage ride from the Crown Prince’s palace to the banquet hall was not far.
Before her hammering heart could even settle, they had arrived.
Dmitri stepped down first, his expression untroubled, and offered his hand.
Ariella moved cautiously her shoes still unfamiliar.
As her feet touched the ground, she looked down at herself, mortified enough to weep.
But while she faltered, Dmitri escorted her with flawless composure.
In such moments, his royal blood was undeniable.
He was formal yet arrogant, graceful yet unrestrained.
The insolent boy who had just thrown careless words at her had vanished without a trace.
***
The massive doors swung open, and Ariella’s tension grew sharper.
The high vaulted ceiling was painted with intricate frescoes, and from its centre hung a golden chandelier, each candlelight sparkling like stars across the room.
Beneath it stretched the banquet table, long and magnificent.
Slender candles glowed in silver holders, their light reflecting off polished cutlery with a soft, warm gleam.
Flowers ran down the centre in elegant arrangements, their fragrance filling the air.
Ariella clutched her skirts.
The Emperor’s and Empress’s seats were still empty, but Austin was already present.
Beside him stood his younger sister, Joslyn.
When Ariella and Dmitri entered, Austin and Joslyn rose.
The princess, still shorter than her brother’s shoulder, executed a flawless curtsey.
She was young, but already beautiful enough to make one imagine the woman she would grow into.
“You are radiant this evening,” Austin said, bowing slightly.
Ariella extended her hand.
With effortless grace, he bent and brushed his lips across the back of it.
She cast a sidelong glance at Dmitri.
She had expected to see dissatisfaction written plainly across his face, yet it bore no particular expression.
“It’s an honour to meet you, Your Highness the Crown Princess,” Joslyn said with a shy smile.
Up close, she bore a striking resemblance to Austin.
The way her eyes curved when she smiled, the perfect symmetry of her lips it was all disarmingly charming.
Though the Emperor had many children, only those born of the Empress were permitted to attend this banquet.
As the four took their places, the Emperor and Empress arrived.
The Emperor wore a long cloak embroidered in silver thread, and atop his head gleamed the imperial crown.
When the imperial couple sat, musicians began to play soft melodies from the side of the hall.
Lutes, viols, and harpsichords blended to create an elegant harmony.
Ariella stole a glance at the Empress.
Her face betrayed no emotion.
Though wed to the Emperor, she had never been crowned an incomplete Empress.
She offered only the briefest greeting in a soft voice, then fell silent.
No wonder the Emperor coveted her so; she was truly beautiful.
Her high brow was smooth, her cheeks faintly flushed.
Most striking of all were her silver hair and translucent eyes of the same shade, giving her an air both ethereal and tragic, as though she might dissolve into seafoam at any moment.
Her silence lent her dignity, though it could not conceal her youth.
The meal began in quiet formality.
***
“Go to war.”
The Emperor’s dry command came midway through the meal.
The cutlery in Ariella’s hands froze.
Go to war?
She lifted her head sharply and found Dmitri’s black eyes already fixed on hers, their depths heavy and unyielding.
The Emperor waved his hand, halting the music.
The musicians withdrew, leaving a peculiar silence in their wake.
Ariella remembered her Swallow Knight had been stationed at the tower gates nearly a year after she was imprisoned.
By then, Dmitri had already marched to war.
But she had never thought the summons would come so soon.
Summer was nearly upon them.
Who began wars in the summer?
“Intelligence reports that the allied independence forces of Taran and Illino plan to attack the northern region of Tripina.”
Taran and Illinois, northern and western neighbours of the Empire.
If so, then surely Austin had been the first to learn of it.
She glanced at him.
Of course, he showed no surprise.
“Did this news come from the Margrave of the Borderlands?”
“It did.”
The Emperor’s curt reply made it clear he found even that much bothersome.
Austin straightened and answered in his stead.
“If it were merely a skirmish in the north, I could handle it myself.
But this is more than that.”
Everyone knew the two nations, after losing territory to the Empire, had long waited for a chance to reclaim it.
The continent was like a volcano ready to erupt, bubbling everywhere, impossible to predict where it might burst.
At the tower, days blurred together.
Time lost its meaning, order collapsed.
Wars erupted ceaselessly, but the little Ariella heard from Gerald was fragmented, limited.
“Curiously, the intelligence places their camp in the south.”
“Then it isn’t just those two nations.”
“Correct.
It seems remnants of other fallen kingdoms have gathered to build strength.
If you respond with a full-scale assault, the enemy can be crushed swiftly.”
No… that isn’t how it happens.
Ariella’s mind retraced what she remembered.
What had seemed like a quick victory dragged on.
The coalition of defeated kingdoms proved stronger and more tightly bound than expected.
They knew the terrain and harried the imperial army at every turn.
The war left deep scars inside and outside the Empire.
And yet, in the end, Dmitri triumphed.
When Tripina’s victory was secured, the records were meticulous.
After Dmitri became Emperor, accounts of the war were passed down as military strategy and tactical study for generations.
But even in those later records, there was never any mention of a massive summer campaign…
Ariella had read and reread how Dmitri conquered the continent, all but the East.
Whatever the timing, this war was the one that established him as
Crown Prince beyond all challenge.
He would return a hero of war.
Likely… at twenty-one years old, in the winter.
Ariella clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from making a sound.
So he would be gone from the capital for more than three years?
Enduring horrors on the battlefield day after day?
