[Lavinia’s POV — Carriage Ride Back to the Palace—Evening]
The carriage rattled down the stone path, the sunset bleeding gold and crimson across the sky—which was very poetic, considering my soul was currently bleeding rage.
Marshi was sitting beside me, tail tucked, staring up with that you-overreacted-again face of his. "Don’t look at me like that," I muttered, crossing my arms. "He said he’d die for me. Die. Who says that? What kind of romantic idiot thinks that’s sweet?"
Marshi tilted his head.
"Exactly," I huffed, crossing my arms. "He’s lucky I didn’t throw the entire tea table at his face."
Sera, sitting primly across from me, folded her arms and tried—really tried—not to laugh. "You did throw a chair, Your Highness."
"I gently shoved it with emotional intensity."
I squinted at her. "Whose side are you on?"
"Logic," she said calmly. "And perhaps Lord Osric’s. A little."
I groaned dramatically, pressing my forehead against the carriage window. "Why does he have to be so self-sacrificing? Ugh! I hate those brooding hero types who think dying is some sort of love language!"
Sera’s expression softened. "Maybe he just said it in the heat of the moment, Your Highness. Maybe he didn’t mean it literally. He probably wants to live with you too."
I sighed, my breath fogging the glass. "I know, Sera. Yet... I don’t like hearing it. Not from him."
The rest of the ride passed in silence, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the air. My eyes followed the soft glow of the palace lights flickering in the distance like sleepy stars.
When the carriage finally stopped, I stepped down and spotted Papa standing in the garden, bathed in moonlight, his gaze fixed on the sky.
"Oh... what’s Papa doing here?" I murmured.
Then turning to Sera, I said, "Take Marshi with you. I’ll join you later."
She nodded, and I made my way toward him. The night air was cool and gentle, brushing against my hair as I slipped my arm around his.
"What are you doing out here, Papa?" I asked softly.
He turned to me with that rare, gentle smile that always made me feel six years old again. "Nothing much. I was just... remembering something."
I blinked. "Remembering what?"
"The time when you were just a tiny bundle in my arms," he said with a low chuckle. "You used to stare at the moon with those big, wide eyes—like you thought you could pluck it right out of the sky."
I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Well... I’m looking at the moon with you again, Papa. What’s the difference?"
He sighed, a faint laugh escaping his lips. "The difference, my little moon, is that you’ve grown too much. It feels like just yesterday you were hugging my leg and arguing with me in that tiny, grumpy voice."
Then his expression shifted—from warmth to pure tyrant father mode.
"...And now," he growled, "I keep receiving those ridiculous letters of marriage proposals. Even after I clearly warned and banished someone as a punishment..."
I blinked, sweatdropping.
Oh dear. Poor Grand Duke Regis... I suddenly felt the secondhand terror of imagining him trying to convince Papa to approve my marriage with Osric. At this rate, we’ll probably need a battle map and divine intervention.
Papa finally sighed again, calmer this time. "By the way, Lavinia," he said, glancing down at me, "do you want to go somewhere for your upcoming birthday?"
I blinked. "You mean... a trip, Papa?"
He nodded. "Yes. Just for a day, perhaps. Somewhere peaceful. I thought it might be nice for you to rest before... whatever new chaos you decide to bring home next."
He chuckled, ruffling my hair affectionately. "You attract trouble like bees to honey, little one. Might as well let you do it somewhere scenic."
I smiled softly, my earlier anger finally melting away under his warmth. Maybe... a trip wasn’t such a bad idea. After all those bad memories and unwanted truths, taking a break sounded like the best idea I’d had in weeks.
"Alright... let’s go, Papa," I said with a small grin.
Papa smiled gently—rare and precious, like a melody I didn’t realize I’d missed. The moonlight reflected on his golden hair, and for a brief moment, the world felt... still. Peaceful.
Then his voice turned serious again. "We’ll go somewhere quiet. Somewhere far from the politics, the whispers, and the Empire’s noise. Just you and me."
My heart softened. "Alright."
Maybe the upcoming birthday of ours would be peaceful.
That’s what I thought.
I was wrong.So, so painfully wrong.
[Imperial Palace—Meeting Room—The Next Day]
"HOW DARE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Papa’s voice shook the pillars. Literally. I swear I saw one of the chandeliers tremble in fear.
There he stood—the Emperor of Elarion, the most terrifying man alive—with his sword pressed against Grand Duke Regis’s throat.
And Grand Duke Regis?He was smiling.Smiling.
Meanwhile, the nobles looked like they were attending their own funerals. One poor minister even fainted mid-gasp.
I, on the other hand, sat gracefully on my chair with a cup of tea, smiling like a proud audience member at a theater play. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novel-fire.ɴet
Papa’s crimson eyes burned like fire. "How dare you bring up such an outrageous,blasphemous,utterly deranged idea in my court!"
Regis tilted his head, calm as ever. "What’s so outrageous about our children getting engaged?"
"OUR WHAT?!?"Papa’s voice thundered again; the floor cracked. "Did you just say—"
"Our kids," Regis repeated cheerfully, patting the sword that was still against his neck like it was a pet. "Osric and Lavinia. They love each other!"
You could hear a pin drop. Or maybe that was the sound of my father’s sanity snapping. Papa blinked once. Twice. Then—
"LOVE EACH OTHER?!?!!"
He swung his sword—not to kill, thankfully, but enough to slice through Regis’s shoulder badge. The nobles screamed. I took another calm sip of tea.
"Cassius, my dear old friend," Regis chuckled, utterly unfazed, "there’s no need for murder before breakfast. It’s bad for digestion."
Papa looked two seconds away from digesting him whole."You dare—you DARE to stand here and say your son touched my daughter—"
"He didn’t touch me, Papa!" I cut in quickly, waving my hands. Then I muttered under my breath, "Well, not that you know of—"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" Papa roared.
"NOTHING!" I said, smiling sweetly. "I said the tea is hot!"
Regis burst out laughing, while Osric, standing behind him, pinched the bridge of his nose like he was reconsidering his entire life.
"Cassius," Regis said between laughs, "your daughter’s got your temper and my son’s bad timing. It’s destiny!"
Papa’s vein popped. "DESTINY?! YOU CALL THIS DESTINY?! I SHALL WIPE OUT THAT DESTINY BY MYSELF!!"
Regis grinned. "Well, yes! I was thinking, why not turn our lifelong friendship into family ties? Imagine the legacy!"
Papa’s sword sparked with papa’s anger."The only legacy you’ll leave behind is your ashes, Regis!"
Regis sighed dramatically, as if discussing the weather. "Wow... I never saw a man who doesn’t want his daughter to get married."
Papa bared his teeth. "Now you have!"
The nobles? They looked one collective gasp away from fainting. The air was so tense you could slice it with Papa’s sword.
One overly brave (and clearly suicidal) noble raised his trembling hand. "Y-Your Majesty... the Grand Duke is correct... Princess Lavinia must marry to continue the Devereux line—"
Papa turned slowly, menacingly.His voice dropped to a low, dangerous calm. "Did I give you permission to speak?"
The noble froze. "I—I—"
"Then do not utter a word until I say so."
Silence. The kind that made you question your life choices. But apparently, courage—or stupidity—is contagious. Another noble cleared his throat and stood.
"B-but, Your Majesty... it is true that after Princess Lavinia, there must be another Devereux to inherit the throne. The people of Elarion depend on the royal line, and... and... well, no one would make a better marriage candidate than Lord Osric Everheart."
The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
Papa’s fingers twitched around his sword hilt, trembling not from weakness but rage. Because... deep down, the man had a point.
I could see it in Papa’s eyes—the war inside him. Logic versus sheer, royal stubbornness.
Regis, naturally, couldn’t resist twisting the dagger.
"See, Cassius," he said smoothly, hands clasped behind his back, "the truth may sting, but facts don’t care about royal tempers. Your bloodline must continue. And honestly, there’s no one better than my son. Besides..." His smirk widened. "I never said the Princess would move to the Everheart Estate. My son will live here, by your side. You won’t lose her."
The room went dead silent.
Papa’s hand twitched again. His jaw clenched. His aura—oh heavens, his aura—flared so violently that one of the banners on the wall caught fire.
Regis didn’t even blink.
And Papa? He stared at him, eyes burning with all the fury of a thousand suns. Then, slowly, he dropped his sword. The blade clattered to the marble floor with a loud clang.
"Everyone. Dismissed."
The nobles vanished so fast they left behind dust trails.
Papa stood tall, fists clenched, his voice low and heavy with restrained emotion. "I need to think. Alone."
The hall emptied until it was just me, Papa, and Regis. Regis smiled knowingly. Papa’s jaw twitched.
I sipped my tea and muttered under my breath, "Well... there goes my peaceful birthday."