The gossip soon died down after several days of the ghastly incident. Though the public still spoke of it in hushed tones, a public appearance by the King changed everything.
King Hendrick purposely revealed himself that day. Instead of Sera, he took the stage and used the moment to rebuke all rumors about his failing health — and to restore faith among the common populace. He assured everyone that investigations into the palace accident were still ongoing.
After a week of acting in her brother's stead, Sera decided to take a stroll in the royal garden. As she wandered, she heard muffled voices above her. Looking up, she saw the royal physician — a different one than her brother's — helping Garran along the balcony. He limped forward, determination written across his face.
Sera's expression softened with guilt.
If only I hadn't shouted that day. He was just trying to care.
Carrissa entered moments later with a glass of milk, saying something that made Garran smile faintly. Sera looked away, intrigued.
Was she always that nice?
She sat down on a bench and sighed, closing her eyes to feel the warm breeze brush against her skin.
A quiet flip of a page broke the silence. Sera opened her eyes — startled that someone had managed to sneak into the garden unnoticed. Sitting directly opposite her was the Iscarian prince, reading a book.
Realizing an important guest was present, she tried to make conversation.
"I didn't take you for a book lover," she said lightly.
Veyron didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the pages before him.
Sera cleared her throat, forcing an awkward smile. It was the first time anyone had ignored her attempts at conversation — not that she made them often.
"I wanted to thank you for saving my brother that day. He only survived because of your swift actions."
Still silence.
Taking the hint, Sera fell quiet. She sat there for several long minutes, debating whether to leave. Yet doing so now would make her seem petty — so she stayed.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"I hope I've not done anything to anger you, Prince—"
"You're starting to annoy me now, if you care to know."
Veyron's curt reply cut through the calm air. Sera blinked, wide-eyed. She hadn't expected him to answer — certainly not like that.
"Well, what have I done, if I may ask?"
"I want you to leave. Can't you see that I'm reading?"
Sera stood up, startled, but quickly sat back down.
"Wait — this is my garden. Why should I leave? There's a study or a library if you wish to read, Prince Veyron."
"I want the garden."
His tone was clipped as he raised his head for the first time.
Anger flickered across Sera's face. First, he ignored her. Now, he acted like he owned the place. Unbelievable.
"Prince Veyron, you may come from a powerful empire and have every whim of yours granted — but with all due respect, this is my kingdom."
She exhaled sharply, feeling oddly satisfied after saying it.
"And I mean no offense. But out of respect for saving my brother, I will comply."
She turned and walked away, leaving Veyron momentarily stunned.
"If she was going to go anyway, why give that long talk?" he thought. Checking his pocket watch, he stood to leave.
On his way back, still replaying her words, he couldn't help but scoff.
"Every whim? If only she knew…"
Up ahead, he saw Sera again — struggling with a branch caught on her dress.
Already frustrated, she muttered under her breath. Then came approaching footsteps. Looking back, she saw Veyron walking toward her.
Maybe he's coming to help. Or to apologize, she thought, relief flickering in her eyes.
Instead, he simply walked past.
Out of disbelief, Sera grabbed his coat — and with a loud tearing sound, everything froze.
Veyron turned, shock flickering in his silver eyes. Sera's cheeks flushed crimson as she realized part of her dress had ripped, exposing her thigh.
"Help me!" she hissed, clutching his coat tighter.
Without a word, Veyron slipped off the coat and handed it to her before striding away.
"You—where are you going!?" Sera called after him. But he didn't answer. She sighed, staring at the white coat in her hands.
Moments later, as Veyron crossed the hall toward his chambers, Bentley appeared from the main door.
"I didn't know you could feel hot," Bentley teased.
Veyron ignored him. "How did it go?"
Bentley hummed. "It went pretty well. Technically, he was just like the others."
"I'm guessing the name he mentioned before his death was Corvin."
Bentley nodded, settling at the table.
"Why do I feel like they're trying to frame him?"
"The feeling's mutual," Bentley said, sipping tea. "The fact that they all mention Corvin's name before they die — it's starting to get monotonous."
He set his cup down and sighed. "This tea's addicting. Oh, and that High Steward… I believe he's up to something."
"Leave them to their own affairs," Veyron said, walking to the balcony. "It might even help our plan."
Bentley arched a brow. "If we're on the subject — where's your coat, Veyron?"
"Shut up, Bentley."
Meanwhile, in the bustling streets of Narest, murmurs rippled as a carriage bearing the Crown's insignia rolled past. It climbed toward the manor perched on the highest peak and came to a stop.
The coachman stepped down and announced,
"The High Steward of the Kingdom of Eldoria is here!"
His voice echoed through the estate, reaching every ear.
Inside, Reggie frowned as he looked down at the red-haired woman resting in his arms.
"What the fuck does he want?"
Lady Aurora stirred and looked up at him sleepily. "Who is it, dear?"
"It's just the High Steward." Reggie took a drink from his bottle, his voice edged with irritation.
Aurora's eyes widened, panic flashing across them. "You didn't tell me he was coming. What if he sees me?"
Reggie rolled his eyes, drawing her closer. "He's not going to come here. And even if he does, he can't touch you. Not anymore."
He brushed a strand of red hair from her face and leaned in, his tone softening. "You have no idea what you do to me."
Aurora's cheeks flushed as he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. "You have to go," she whispered, her voice trembling. "The High Steward is waiting."
"I don't give a damn about him," Reggie said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "But fine — we'll continue this later."
He rose, adjusted his collar, and glanced back at her with a teasing smile.
"Try not to miss me too much," he said, closing the door behind him.