The staff ushers them through a private entrance, bypassing the grand dining hall entirely, and into a velvet-draped VIP room. The walls are soundproofed, the table carved from obsidian and accented with threads of silver. Warm light flickers in crystal sconces, casting a soft, intimate glow.
Asdri takes the seat across from Alix, while Draya sit next to him, silent and watchful. Pyke and Famir are seated farther down the table, sipping discreetly from chilled glasses.
The conversation begins light, flowing effortlessly over wine and delicately plated courses—harmless topics of court rumors, minor skirmishes along distant borders, upcoming festivals, trade gossip.
Alix answers with practiced ease, saying much without saying anything at all. He listens more than he speaks, yet every word he chooses adds a subtle weight to the air. Asdri speaks freely, but his eyes are always studying, measuring, feeling out the shape of the man in front of him.
Eventually, the plates are cleared, and dessert is being served—delicate layers of citrus cream and honeyed pastry.
Asdri sets down his fork and leans back slightly, folding his hands. His voice lowers a fraction.
"Brother Alix," he says, casual, almost offhanded. "Have you ever thought about bringing your father into the palace?"
Alix's golden eyes lift slowly to meet his.
Asdri smiles faintly. "I'd like him to meet my father. King Rewalt always takes interest in promising new houses—especially those that carry themselves with such… impact."
Alix tilts his head slightly. "That's a bold offer."
"A sincere one," Asdri replies. "A noble house rises not only by power, but by connection. If your father is anything like you, I think it would be a meeting worth arranging."
Alix considers it, fingers idly tracing the rim of his glass.
"I see," he says after a beat.
He leans back, calm as ever. "I'll consider it."
"Good," Asdri nods. "It would be… interesting to see what sort of legacy your house intends to leave behind."
Later that night, after parting ways with Prince Asdri and his companions, Alix and Draya arrive at their hotel—a secluded, high-end estate perched at the edge of a small hill, overlooking the faint lights of the capital. The stone path leading to the entrance glows faintly under mana-infused lanterns. A cool breeze drifts through the night, brushing past the long coat draped over Alix's shoulders.
They walk side by side in silence, the only sound being the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet.
After a while, Alix speaks, his voice low. "What do you think of Asdri, Draya?"
Draya glances at him, then looks forward again. "If the stories he shared tonight are true… then he is a good human. Brave. Loyal to his friends. Honest, at least on the surface."
She exhales quietly. "But as we both know, Your Majesty, humans are not to be trusted. They smile with warmth, but that warmth hides daggers. When the time comes, they will betray you without hesitation… especially if power is involved."
Alix walks a few more steps before replying, his expression unreadable. "You're not wrong."
He gazes up at the moon for a moment—serene and pale, he thought. 'Even though I remember what it was like to be one… to feel like one… that sense is gone now. All of it.' He places a hand on his chest, as if searching for something. 'Whatever I was before... it doesn't exist anymore. Not in here.'
The next morning, the skies above the capital are painted in soft hues of silver and blue, with a gentle breeze carrying the distant sound of bells ringing from a temple tower. Alix steps out of the hotel courtyard, his long coat shifting slightly in the wind. Behind him, Draya walks in silence, a small travel case in one hand.
They're on their way out of the city gate.
But just as they round the corner, Alix halts.
Just ahead, standing near the fountain at the edge of the plaza, are five familiar figures—cloaked in travel gear, each wearing personalized armor and armed for war.
Asdri stands at the center, his crimson cape fluttering behind him, the gold-and-black trim of his armor gleaming in the morning sun. Pyke, Valia, Ingra, and Famir are to either side, adjusting the straps of their packs and blades.
Asdri turns the moment he hears footsteps. His eyes light up in recognition.
"Brother Alix," he calls with a grin. "Looks like you're going somewhere."
Alix stops, eyes narrowing slightly at the coincidence. "Well," he says evenly, "I could say the same about you all."
Asdri chuckles, stepping forward. "We're headed for the capital of Ordeya. Word is the situation with the monsters is worsening. My father wants a presence there—someone to represent the crown and observe things firsthand."
Alix gives a slow nod, his tone casual. "Is that so? I'm also going to the capital of Ordeya."
There's a brief silence.
Then Asdri's grin widens. "Perfect, then. We can travel together. Safety in numbers, right?"
Alix lifts an eyebrow, almost amused. "I suppose that depends on what we encounter."
Draya, standing quietly beside him, simply watches Asdri with a calm, unreadable expression.
Asdri gestures behind him. "We're leaving within the hour. Our carriages are waiting by the southern checkpoint. If you're interested, we'll make space."
Alix glances once at Draya, then back to Asdri. "Very well," he says. "Let's see how you travel, Prince."
Asdri laughs, already turning toward the gate. "I promise, brother, we travel in style."
Alix walks forward without another word, his eyes glinting faintly beneath the morning sun. The road to Ordeya just got more interesting.
As they reach the southern checkpoint, Alix expects to see polished carriages, perhaps an escort of soldiers, banners flying high. But instead, he finds only the five of them—Asdri, Pyke, Valia, Ingra, and Famir—standing by a single sleek wyvern-drawn cart, outfitted for rough terrain. No fanfare. No guards. Just the prince and his companions, dressed like seasoned adventurers.
But their equipment tells a different story.