The Liberty Port, already a hive of activity on most days, had grown even busier. All eyes were drawn toward one thing—the reborn Grand Whale.
With its majestic form docked under the noon sun, crowds swelled along the harbor. But it wasn’t just the spectacle of the ship. It was the name newly painted across its hull in bold, black letters:
The renaming of the Grand Whale sparked a frenzy.
News spread quickly, and though some old loyalists complained about the change, their voices were drowned by the excitement flooding Franklindale.
Tourism surged. Hellfire Studio, known for turning every project into gold, had ignited curiosity across the continent.
Among the crowd stood three teenagers, part of a local film club at Franklindale High.
"Titanic? Has to be tied to the new movie," the short one muttered, eyes squinting at the ship.
"I dunno," said the second, adjusting his glasses. "But Titanic sounds cooler than Grand Whale, don’t you think?"
"What? Are you serious?" the third one frowned. "The Grand Whale is a historic name. Everyone knows it. Changing it feels like erasing history."
Nearby, more discussions echoed the sentiment—some excited, others nostalgic.
Not far from them, a lone figure moved through the crowd. Clad in a travel-stained cloak, her steps light and purposeful, the hood of her coat cast her face in shadow. From her delicate hands and graceful stride, it was clear she was a young woman.
"Titanic..." she murmured softly, her voice tinged with wonder.
She wove her way through the throng until she stood before the ramp leading up the ship. But before she could step forward, a dockworker blocked her path.
"Whoa there, miss," the man said, holding up a hand. "This area’s restricted. No entry unless you’ve got studio clearance. Can’t just let anyone waltz onto the Titanic."
The girl hesitated, then cleared her throat. "I’m not just anyone. I’m Arthur Pendragon’s sister." Follow current novels on novel~fire~net
The worker blinked. "Sister?"
She sighed, lifting her hood just enough for him to see her face.
His eyes widened in shock. "Y-You’re... Princess Apollonia Morningstar?"
Around this time, Arthur found himself unexpectedly amused by the wave of nobles requesting to join the Titanic filming. They weren’t shy about their reasons—most simply wanted to enjoy the "fancy cruise" he had offhandedly mentioned in passing, while also getting the chance to appear in a major Hellfire production.
The majority of them were from Wales.
’These nobles... They’re truly addicted to parties, elegant dances, and luxury voyages,’ Arthur mused, folding his arms. ’They probably see this film set as a floating ballroom.’
Initially, he considered turning them down. But that changed when he received a direct visit from none other than the Crown Prince of Wales—Drakon himself.
Inside Arthur’s makeshift Titanic office aboard the ship, Drakon sat across from him, posture straight, expression earnest.
"Please consider it," Drakon said, his voice polite yet firm. "My sister’s recently become fascinated with film. If you agree to let her be part of the production, I’ll personally host you should you ever visit Wales."
Arthur leaned back in his chair, thoughtful.
’Hmm... letting nobles into the film might not be such a bad idea. Their natural flair for dramatics could add authenticity to the high-society scenes. And gaining favor with a crown prince—even if I don’t care about titles—might prove useful later.’
After a pause, he looked Drakon in the eye and smiled. "Well, if the Crown Prince of Wales himself took the time to visit me in person... how could I say no?"
He chuckled lightly. "It would be rude to turn you away. So, why not? Your sister can join the cruise and appear in a few scenes. I’ll make sure she gets the full experience."
Relief washed over Drakon’s face. "Thank you. Truly."
Arthur smiled, amused by how formal the prince was acting. "How about a glass of wine to celebrate?"
Drakon nodded, and a nearby waiter began pouring into their glasses.
Just as Arthur reached for his drink, a knock echoed from the door.
Normally, Arthur kept his senses sharpened at all times. But lately, he’d been deliberately suppressing his automatic detection to preserve energy unless necessary. Which is why, when he opened the door, he was genuinely caught off guard.
"Arthur!" Apollonia beamed and rushed forward, throwing her arms around him in a sudden hug. Her voice brimmed with joy.
Arthur froze for a heartbeat—then smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "What are you doing here?" he asked, clearly surprised.
Apollonia beamed, her cheeks tinged with a light blush. "Hehe... I got curious about this massive project the media won’t shut up about, so I thought I’d come visit." She glanced around the office, taking in the polished wood, velvet chairs, and neatly stacked scripts. "And I wasn’t wrong to come. The ship’s interior looks incredible."
Arthur gently brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Did you sneak out? I’m guessing your father—Luke—wouldn’t be thrilled about you coming to see me."
She quickly shook her head. "No! I didn’t sneak out." She added proudly, "In fact, Father gave me permission. He said I could come here."
Arthur raised a brow. "Really? That old man actually allowed it?"
Apollonia pouted. "Arthur, he’s still our father. Don’t call him that."
Arthur shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I don’t care. He exiled me. Tossed me out like I didn’t exist. So no—he’s not my father. Just some stranger with shared blood."
Apollonia’s expression softened, her eyes clouded with emotion. "Arthur..."
Before the tension could thicken, another voice cut in smoothly.
"So... this is your little sister? Apollonia?" said Drakon from the nearby lounge chair.
Apollonia turned, finally noticing the unfamiliar man. "Huh? Who are you?"
Drakon chuckled, standing and offering a courteous bow. "Drakon Wales. A pleasure to meet you."
Apollonia blinked. "Drakon Wales..." Her eyes widened slightly as realization dawned. "Wait—you’re the Crown Prince of Wales?"
She looked between Drakon and Arthur, clearly curious but too polite to ask. ’What’s a crown prince doing here... with my brother?’
Drakon smiled. "We were just having a pleasant conversation. Would you care to join us?"
Before she could respond, the door opened once more. Firfel stepped in, guided by one of the ship workers. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw the young princess.
Apollonia turned and broke into a bright grin. "Sister Firfel!" She rushed over and embraced her.
The two girls immediately began chatting, their voices bubbling with excitement as they caught up.
Arthur and Drakon exchanged a look. Arthur gave a slight shrug, amused, as the two women linked arms and cheerfully exited the room together.
Left alone in the quiet of the office, the two men sat with their wine glasses in hand. Drakon swirled his drink, gazing toward the window that overlooked the bustling port.
"So, the Grand Whale is now called Titanic," he began, his tone casual. "And it’s drawn attention from all over—even from nobles. My sister is proof enough of that."
Arthur nodded with a faint smirk. "Seems I have a knack for attracting attention to everything I do."
Drakon chuckled. "If your project is this grand, attention is inevitable. But the way people are reacting... it’s beyond typical excitement. My sister and her friends were practically begging me to get them aboard. A cruise, a film set—how could they resist?"
Arthur’s smile lingered.
After a moment, Drakon raised a brow. "Now that I think about it... why change the ship’s name to Titanic? It’s a bold move. Is there a specific reason behind it?"
Arthur blinked—he hadn’t expected that question. He leaned back, thinking for a beat.
"Well," he began, setting his glass down, "the name is inspired by a historical event. It comes from the Titan Ship—the one that sank about ninety years ago."
Drakon’s expression shifted subtly as recognition set in. "Ah... that ship," he murmured. "The one built by the Wales Ocean Liner Company, wasn’t it?"
Arthur nodded. "Yes, that’s the one."
Drakon fell silent for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the window as if something weighed on him.
Arthur noticed and raised an eyebrow. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s the matter?"
Drakon cleared his throat and slowly set his glass down. "It’s nothing, really. Just... stories I’ve heard over the years. Ones not found in official records." His voice dropped to a hush. "They say the Titan Ship didn’t sink by accident."
Arthur raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ’Now this is interesting. A crown prince speaking in hushed tones about a buried history?’
"Not an accident?" Arthur repeated, leaning in slightly.
Drakon nodded slowly, his expression growing more somber. "Yes. According to what I’ve been told—whispers passed down from sailors and a few nobles who knew people aboard—it wasn’t nature or poor design that doomed the Titan Ship."
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. "Then what was it?"
Drakon’s voice dropped. "The Fae."
"The Fae?" Arthur repeated, brows furrowing. It was the first time he’d heard the word in this world. "Who are they?"