Chapter 11
11
T he evening of the banquet arrived, a night to mark my long-awaited return to Valoria. In the privacy of my chambers, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight, the process of dressing felt more ceremonial than routine. Tessa, along with two other ladies from the court, laid out a gown that had been arduously created for the occasion—a true masterpiece of Valorian craftsmanship. Its fabric, a cascade of deep emerald silk, shimmered with threads of gold, mirroring the lushness of the palace gardens under the moonlight. The gown was adorned with intricate beadwork along the bodice, each bead a testament to the meticulous dedication of the palace's seamstresses.
As Tessa carefully laced the back of the dress, I couldn't help but marvel at the transformation reflected in the mirror before me. The gown fit perfectly, accentuating my form while the rich color complemented my complexion, making my skin glow with a radiant warmth. My hair was styled in an elegant updo; the strands were artfully arranged to frame my face with a few loose curls cascading down my neck. The finishing touch was an exquisite necklace, a family heirloom of emeralds and diamonds that lay gently against my collarbone, its green hues a perfect match to the dress.
“You’re a vision, Your Highness,” Tessa remarked, her voice warm with genuine admiration as she adjusted the fall of the fabric to ensure it draped perfectly.
Feeling like a true Valorian princess for the first time in years, I took a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in my stomach. This was more than a mere celebration; it was a declaration of my presence, a reaffirmation of my identity in the land in which I’d once lived.
“Is this really me?” I murmured half to myself as I admired my reflection.
“It's you, Princess. Tonight, Valoria will see its daughter in all her splendor,” Tessa affirmed, her smile reflected in the mirror.
With a deep breath, I readied myself for the walk to the Grand Hall. Viktor and my court ladies formed a royal escort that felt more like a procession of old. The palace corridors, illuminated by the soft glow of torchlight, seemed to watch in silent anticipation as we passed.
Viktor, maintaining a pace that was both protective and respectful, glanced back. “You're ready for this,” he said, a statement more than a question, his voice steady.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The walk from the Eastern palace to the Grand Hall was a journey of its own. Viktor, ever the protective guardian, led the way. My court ladies followed in a graceful procession, their gowns a flurry of pastel hues that created a picturesque scene as we traversed the palace grounds. The path was lined with torches that cast golden light upon the marble, guiding our steps through the maze of corridors and archways that made up the heart of the palace .
As we approached the Grand Hall, the sound of music and revelry filtered through the air, a lively melody that quickened my pulse. The massive doors, carved from ancient oak and bound in iron, stood open, welcoming us into the opulent space beyond.
Sentinels were poised, waiting to announce my arrival. Their voices were loud and clear as they rang throughout the Grand Hall. “Her Highness, Princess Lyanna of Valoria!” they called out. Hushed silence fell.
Stepping over the room’s threshold, I felt the weight of countless eyes upon me as a sea of faces turned in unison to mark my entrance.
The space was bathed in the warm glow of countless candles, a spectacle of Valorian splendor. Tapestries depicting scenes of legend and lore adorned the walls, while the high vaulted ceiling gave the room an air of boundless space. At the far end, my parents’ thrones sat elevated on a dais, a symbol of the enduring legacy of the Valorian crown.
As I made my way down the center aisle, leaving Viktor and the court ladies outside, I felt a mixture of curiosity and admiration in the gazes of the assembled guests. Each step was a statement of the journey I had undertaken, a path that eventually led me back to the heart of Valoria, to a home that was both familiar and wholly new.
My parents, Valoria’s King and Queen, sat enthroned in regal splendor, embodying the strength and grace of Valoria. Drawing near, I bowed deeply, an homage to tradition and respect. “Mother, Father,” my voice echoed softly in the Grand Hall, “I have returned.”
In a moment that seemed to stretch, capturing the weight of years and the depth of our separation, my mother rose. Her movements were deliberate, a portrait of royal poise. A court lady, with practiced reverence, presented a tiara—a symbol of my status and the responsibilities it entailed—on a pillow of the richest burgundy velvet.
Plucking the tiara from the pillow, my mother approached me. The air between us was charged with unspoken emotions and the significance of the act about to unfold. With a grace that spoke of countless similar ceremonies, she crowned me. The tiara's weight settled upon me as light as a whisper, yet loaded with meaning. Her hand then rested on my shoulder, a silent command for me to rise.
The gesture was simple yet profound, marking not just my physical return but the reclamation of my place within the royal family and Valoria's heart. Standing, I faced the assembled nobility, the tiara a gleaming testament to my journey and the path that lay ahead.
My father, resplendent in his ceremonial attire, met my gaze, a beacon of pride and joy. “My daughter,” he announced, his voice carrying through the hall, “has returned to us. Let the festivities in her honor begin!”
The swell of applause and exuberant cheers momentarily startled me, a stark reminder of the many eyes fixed upon my every move. As the Grand Hall buzzed with renewed energy for the celebration, I felt their weighty expectations pressing in from all sides. The assembly's attention, though momentarily diverted, returned to me with palpable curiosity.
Caelan, ever the embodiment of courtly grace, was the first to bridge the distance between us. He bowed with a flourish, his gesture a blend of respect and something more elusive. As he lifted my hand to press a kiss against the back of it, his voice, barely above a whisper, carried a hint of challenge. “Welcome back, Lyanna,” he said, his smirk betraying his confidence. “Would you honor me with the first dance? ”
Caught in the intensity of his gaze, I was momentarily ensnared in indecision. Our recent history, fraught with tension and unresolved conflicts, urged me to decline. I was about to when my mother's voice, authoritative and expectant, pierced the hesitation. “Lyanna, let Caelan escort you onto the dance floor.”
Her directive, non-negotiable in its delivery, left me with little choice but to acquiesce. With a tight nod, I extended my hand towards him as a silent concession to the evening's public demands.
Caelan's grip was sure as he led me to the center of the floor, an island amidst the sea of onlookers. The quartet, seizing the moment, wove a melody that filled the space between us, a tangible expression of the evening's splendor. As his hand found its place at the small of my back and drew me into the dance's embrace, our proximity dissolved the remaining distance between us.
We swayed to the music, our eyes locked on one another, never missing a step, though I was the first to look away. Scanning the crowd, I searched for a familiar face. For anyone other than Caelan.
There were many unfamiliar faces in the crowd, but I recognized a few. Caelan’s brothers from Eldwain were in attendance, no doubt as representations of their infirm father who couldn’t attend. Some elders from Ellyndor, if their pointed ears were any indication. Marcellus and Selene were cloistered in a corner, away from prying eyes. As I continued to search, I saw them—the Crimson Clan.
My eyes first landed on Ronan where he stood stoically next to his father, Chief Aryan. His hands were fisted at his sides and his jaw clenched in frustration as he watched us dance. I wanted to go to him but knew I couldn’t. Silas was close by, along with a few more clan members I recognized by face alone. Unlike the rest of the guests who were dressed in their finest silks and satins, the Crimson Clan wore their battle leathers, showing off their tattooed skin and muscled physiques.
“If you continue to stare at him, others will take notice,” Caelan murmured as he whipped us around, forcing me to give Ronan my back.
I dug my nails into his shoulder, but he didn’t so much as flinch. “You’re doing this on purpose,” I gritted between my teeth.
He shrugged. “So what if I am? I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: the two of you are impossible. Your parents will never let you marry into the Crimson Clan.”
I scoffed. “Who said I wanted to marry?”
His eyes snapped to me. “You mean to tell me …”
“Yes, Caelan, that’s exactly what I’m saying. I have no desire to get married, because I don’t need to,” I whispered.
“We’ll see about that,” he murmured into my ear before twirling me around and dipping me. “We don’t always get what we want.” He grinned as he lifted me and then released my hand. “Don’t stray too far, Lyanna. The night has just begun.”
The instant he left me alone on the dance floor, I was engulfed by the clapping crowd. Strangers approached, seeking only to touch my arms, dress, and hair. I felt like a spectacle. I tried to talk to everyone, but it was hard keeping track of all the questions thrown my way. Each person clamored for a moment with me, their questions and touch insistent, until I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for air and whirled around with wide eyes, trying to find an exit route, but saw nothing but smiling faces that stretched across tight faces. It was a scene out of a nightmare .
Suddenly, someone gripped me from behind and said, “Everyone, let’s give Princess Lyanna some space, hmm?”
Slowly, my savior escorted me out of the crowd of nosy guests. Once we were in a more secure location, I looked up to see who he was. Startled, I gazed up at Orion. I exhaled in relief. Despite my feelings for the irksome fae, I could have kissed him.
“Thank the goddess.” I held onto his arm to steady myself. “Where have you been?”
He smirked. “Once I learned you were on your way to Valoria, I returned to Ellyndor for some … business. I figured you would be safe now that you had been found by your people.”
“Why didn’t you free Selene?” I whispered. “We made a deal—”
“And I would have kept my word if your brother hadn’t beat me to it,” he whispered back. “I’m assuming she’s in his care?”
“No. He promised to give her the slave release documents, although he hasn’t done it yet.” I glanced around for any eavesdroppers. “Did you come with the elders from Ellyndor?”
He nodded. “All of Asteria is here to see the lost princess. No one would dare miss this spectacle.”
I snorted. “I bet.”
“Tell me, Princess, is there any gossip you’d care to share?” He raised a mischievous brow.
I pushed him lightly on the shoulder. “No. Life has been relatively … boring since I arrived,” I lied. I had no intention of divulging my affair with Ronan to him. Especially not in front of everyone. I didn’t know who was listening.
A court lady came by with a tray of wine and I flagged her down. Grabbing a cup, I chugged it all in one go and slammed the cup back on the tray. “Apologies,” I offered sheepishly. The lady nodded and scurried away. I needed some liquid courage if I was going to get through the night.
“I’m assuming all is not okay,” Orion hinted as he carefully watched me, seeing how my hands shook.
I blew out a breath. “Please don’t remind me,” I muttered. “My mother is overbearing as usual, Caelan has something up his sleeve, and my poor father is oblivious to it all. I’ve been home for all of ten days and I already miss the Central Plains.”
“Well, then,” Orion sighed. “Maybe you should drink some more.” He flagged down another court lady with a tray of wine.
Without a second thought, I grabbed another cup of wine and drank it in one gulp. Setting the cup back on the tray a bit more gently than before, I turned my attention back to Orion and took a deep breath. “Is there anything I should know? Caelan hinted that tonight would have a completely different meaning than what my father intended.”
“Is that so?” Orion raised a brow. “I can’t say much, but I will say you’re in for a surprise tonight because—”
Orion was cut off by the sound of trumpets coming from the entrance to the Grand Hall, snaring the attention of the crowd. Two sentinels marched into the room to announce the latest visitor.
“Commander Mykal Kaiser of the Kingdom of Keldara!” the sentinels announced.
The commander strode in with a full entourage. Dressed in the finest clothing, he strolled into the Grand Hall with a smirk playing on his very handsome face.
Caelan wasn’t lying; my father did invite everyone from Asteria. Of course, it would be strange for the King of Keldara to cross the border to Valoria, so sending Mykal in his stead made sense. Unfortunately I still harbored a grudge against Mykal for concealing the truth about Ronan’s intentions. He instigated our fallout by twisting the truth, because he knew the simple truth wouldn’t turn me against Ronan.
Orion snorted. “Of course he would show up late and upstage the arrival of the princess,” he mumbled as he rolled his eyes. “What a diva.”
“Who cares?” I turned away from Mykal, but Orion stopped me by tugging on my wrist.
“Lyanna, there’s something you should know—” Orion started, but his words stalled when my father cleared his throat and stood.
“Thank you all for your attendance tonight,” the King’s voice boomed. “It’s a blessing from the goddess that our Lyanna has returned. I prayed for many years that I would see her once again, and the goddess answered my prayers.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Tonight, I would like to thank someone very special who made this all happen. His relentless efforts in finding the lost princess did not go unnoticed. Please, let’s all welcome and thank … Prince Caelan of Eldwain!”
Caelan stepped out of the crowd to the center as everyone clapped and cheered the so-called savior of Valoria. His expression was cocky as he soaked in the applause.
“Caelan, you are like family to us. If there is any request you have, any at all, I will do anything in my power to make it happen to thank you for all your hard work,” my father continued. “If—”
“Your Majesty,” Caelan interrupted. “I do have one request. ”
My father’s smile broadened. “Of course!” he laughed. “Anything. What is it?”
“Leila,” Orion whispered. “You—”
“I would like to ask for Princess Lyanna’s hand in marriage,” Caelan announced.
A chorus of startled gasps rang out in the Grand Hall, not least of which was my own.
“The fuck?” I muttered as I dropped the cup of wine in my hand with a loud clatter.
Orion sighed. “I was trying to tell you,” he mumbled.
I glared up at the fae. “Well you could have tried harder!”
My father’s expression tightened as he attempted to maintain the smile on his face, but it was obvious he was having difficulty.
“Well …” he started, but his words were cut off by my mother.
“That’s a wonderful proposition!” my mother declared cheerfully. “How joyous, and a magnificent prize for Valoria’s savior!”
If looks could kill, my mother would be dead from the force of my glare. Marry Caelan? No fucking way!
I quickly searched the crowd for Ronan and found him standing stoically beside his father and Silas across the room. The veins in his neck bulged as Silas held him back from bursting through the crowd to throttle Caelan. I wanted him to look my way so I could reassure him that I would never marry Caelan, but he was too distracted. Too angry.
“Uh … well …” my father faltered, a tight smile on his face as he attempted to play the diplomat.
“Father!” Marcellus emerged from the crowd to the center where Caelan stood, leaving Selene behind. “This isn’t a decision that can be made here .” He glared at Caelan, then turned back to my father. “Lyanna’s input matters, and I don’t think—”
“As her parents, we make the decision on her marriage,” my mother chimed in. “Lyanna’s thoughts do not matter. She will do as we say.”
“Mother!” Marcellus pleaded, but she sent him a look that shut him up quickly.
My father cleared his throat. “While Derinda is technically correct,” he glanced toward my mother sheepishly, “I agree with Marcellus on this. This decision isn’t one to be made on a whim, or in a public forum. Especially since Lyanna has just returned to us. I don’t know if I’m ready to part ways with her just yet.” He chuckled.
I breathed a relieved sigh. Thank the goddess for my father and oddly enough, Marcellus.
Petulant, my mother crossed her arms over her chest and plopped down onto her throne in muted anger. My father tried to regain control of the situation.
“We will continue this conversation some other time. For now, let’s continue the celebration!” he said.
The crowd awkwardly clapped and mingled as if they hadn’t just witnessed the biggest news of the century. Softly at first and then gradually increasing in volume, the musicians began to play.
“That Caelan is absolutely mad!” Orion murmured as he grabbed a cup of wine from a passing servant. “After all he did, he has the audacity to actually ask for your hand in marriage?”
I peered over at him. “How did you know he was going to request it?” I asked suspiciously.
Orion shrugged and offered a smirk. “Call it intuition.”
But I wasn’t buying it. He knew more than he was telling, which made me wonder if Caelan had some dealings with Ellyndor that we weren’t aware of.
“Well, Lyanna, it’s been lovely, but I must mingle. Be safe!” With a wink tossed over his shoulder, Orion disappeared into the crowd.
I rolled my eyes. There really was no telling what was going on in that fae’s mind. I still wasn’t sure if he was friend or foe. Casting my eyes over the crowd for Ronan, I saw him standing in the same space as before. I’d taken three steps in his direction when I was stopped by Mykal.
The commander grinned as he intercepted me. “Congratulations are in order, Princess. Who would have thought you’d end up marrying the Prince of Eldwain?”
I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not marrying anyone.”
He smirked. “Is that so? Could have fooled me. Your mother all but agreed on the spot.”
“Don’t believe everything you see or hear,” I snapped. “What do you want, Mykal?”
He chuckled and brushed a strand of my hair away from my face. I quickly slapped his hand away and stepped back. “Touchy!” He held his hands up in mock surrender. “I thought we had a connection,” he whispered as he leaned toward me. “I mean, we did kiss …” He let the sentence linger.
I glared. “I never kissed you,” I gritted between my teeth.
He shrugged. “If you say so, Princess. It was very memorable for me, in any event,” he offered cheekily. “Since Eldwain is entertaining thoughts of marriage alignments with Valoria, maybe I should throw my hat into the race as well. I think we’d be lovely together.”
I pushed him away. “Don’t even think about it!” I growled. “I would rather marry Caelan than you. ”
Mykal’s expression darkened, and he took a step toward me. “I wouldn’t be so quick to reject me, Princess. You never know what the future holds.”
“ I am the master of my future and you’re not in it!” I whispered back. “Don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten your part in all of this.”
Mykal’s face softened. “Apologies, Princess,” he murmured. “I should not have taken advantage of you in that manner. Unfortunately, unlike you, some of us are not the masters of our future.”
I frowned at his admission, wondering what he could possibly mean. According to everyone, he enjoyed a very good relationship with the King of Keldara. He was practically an adopted son since the king had no heirs. But his words hinted that he lacked freedom. I wanted to pry, but that would mean I was interested in his fate, which I certainly wasn’t.
I rolled my eyes and tried to step around him when Mykal quickly took ahold of my wrist. “Lyanna,” he whispered, “I’m not your enemy. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to hurt you, much less see you get hurt. I know you must feel safe at home, but trust me, you’re not safe anywhere. If you’re ever in need of aid, know you can count on me.”
I furrowed my brows and peered up at him. His expression mirrored his deadly serious tone. “Why? Why would you help me?”
He sighed and released my wrist. “Sadly, you’re a victim in all these political games and I don’t think you deserve it. You’re too good to be involved in this mess.”
“How do you know I’m good? I could be a horrible person.” I lifted my chin defiantly .
Mykal smirked. “I have eyes and ears everywhere, Princess. I would know.”
Tired of this circular conversation, I pushed past him and stomped away. He was the last person I wanted to speak to right now. The farther I was from Mykal, the better.