In another corner of the kingdom, inside a majestic hall adorned with fine craftsmanship and gifts as valuable as a house in the capital, four people shared tea under a blanket of uncomfortable silence.
On one side sat the Duke and Duchess of Artea—Artea being the most powerful frontier territory of the Lion Kingdom. Known as "the lungs of the continent," their lands produced most of the kingdom's food and exported to neighboring nations.
Across from them, seated with perfect posture and impeccable manners, were the young King and his mother, the Empress.
The atmosphere was tense.
The previous monarch—the current King's father—had been overthrown by his own son. Rumors painted the new ruler as ruthless and ambitious, but the truth was far more complex. The former king had been a notorious womanizer, corrupt, and easily bribed. His reign nearly led the kingdom to collapse.
So when the young prince ascended the throne, he was forced to act with determination… and that didn't always win him goodwill.
With the help of his mother and sister, the King reformed trade, stabilized supply lines, contained outbreaks of disease, and even made personal hygiene fashionable among nobles.
And yet, at that moment, neither he nor the powerful dukes knew how to handle the current situation.
It had all started with a simple idea: the Dukes wanted to marry their daughter to a prince. Such a union would grant them greater legal influence, reduced taxes, and protection over their territories. If the chosen prince happened to be the King himself—even better. But no. Their daughter had fallen in love with the third prince.
And since the plan still benefited them, the Dukes didn't oppose.
From the crown's perspective, the match was strategic: the marriage would secure a key alliance in uncertain times, ensure food supplies, and discourage foreign invasions.
Everything was going smoothly… until the third prince publicly rejected the dukes' daughter.
Instant scandal.
The nobles didn't erupt in fury—love could grow over time, as it had for them—but their reputation took a hit. They demanded a formal, public apology.
But before diplomacy could work its magic… another surprise landed.
The young lady got married. Legally. Through the church. That very same day.
And then… she went on her honeymoon.
The Duke didn't entirely blame her, but rumors were spreading like wildfire.
The Duchess, however, was torn. She had taught her daughter to fight for what she loved, to never let anyone take what was hers. She had even shared how, through wit and elegance, she'd conquered the Duke's heart in her youth.
But now a disturbing doubt gnawed at her:
What if their daughter had used magic to manipulate the prince?
Part of her felt proud. The other part… feared the consequences.
If whispers of manipulation reached the court, they could be accused of trying to control the crown.
That thought was interrupted when the King finally spoke, his tone calm:
"I apologize for the trouble my brother has caused," he said, lifting his teacup. "He's always loved romantic novels. I just didn't think he'd take one so literally."
"We offer our sincerest apologies, Your Majesty," the Duchess replied, nervous but smiling. "Our daughter is of age. She made her decision on her own. Besides, it was we who suggested the marriage in the first place… and, well, we know she's not exactly… easy."
They chuckled softly—not from humor, but because the tension needed somewhere to escape.
Seconds later, a knock at the door.
"Let the messenger in," said the King, grateful for the interruption.
The messenger entered, saluted sharply, and spoke:
"We've located the third prince and the duchess. They are on their way back to the capital."
The King, the Empress, and the younger princess all sighed in unison. For a moment, they had imagined the worst: the prince eloping with the future most powerful noblewoman… to live a romantic, peaceful life in some forgotten corner of the world. Like something out of a bad novel.
They tried to remain composed, but the relief was obvious.
"Looks like they'll be home soon, Your Majesty," the Duke said, trying to sound casual, though a trace of fatherly affection bled into his voice.
"No doubt," the King replied with a faint smile. "I suppose it's time to begin preparations for the official wedding."
Because yes, a church wedding was legally binding—but in noble society, that was just the prologue. The true ceremony—the one that sealed alliances, favors, and political strategies—still had to be arranged.
The second princess was already thrilled. In her mind, floral arrangements and décor ideas bloomed at alarming speed.
Meanwhile, the adults resumed their discussion on trade, treaties, and state affairs… until they noticed the messenger was still standing rigidly in the corner, visibly uncomfortable.
"You may go," the King said kindly.
But the young man didn't move.
"My King… there's a second message regarding the prince and the duchess. It's a video… sent by the undercover guards."
The silence tensed like a drawn bowstring.
"A video?" the King asked, raising an eyebrow.
The messenger pulled out a magical recording orb. Expensive. Rare among commoners. But fairly standard among nobility.
"I see… hand it over so I can view it," the King ordered.
"With all due respect, Your Majesty… there's a problem."
"What problem could there possibly be?" the King snapped, his patience fraying. "Hand it over now or you'll have to explain to fate why you dared challenge destiny!"
Pale, the messenger placed the orb on the table and nearly fled the room.
For a moment, the King stared at the orb like it might explode. He considered saving it for later. But with the Dukes watching him directly, that would only make things look worse.
He sighed, channeled a bit of energy into the orb, and it began projecting floating images.
The first scene stunned them all: Prince Yuan… dressed as a woman, fully made-up. Beside him were Duchess Zoe and two unknown women—clear accomplices. Nora was leading the way.
The image shifted. Zoe and Nora peeked out from behind a barrel, grinning as they spied on Yuan changing outfits with a finesse that could only be described as alarmingly professional—as if he'd worn dresses many times before.
Cut to a chase: Yuan and Zoe battled with magic and blades, riding a cart driven by the same women. Nora threw daggers left and right with deadly precision.
The last scene showed hidden royal guards silently eliminating the remaining pursuers—without the main group even noticing.
The hall fell into a heavier silence than before.
The Dukes were pale, caught between disbelief and collapse. Since when had their daughter learned to fight like that…? Or use magic?
The King and his sister were still processing the most disturbing image: their brother… in a dress.
One question lingered unspoken in their minds:
Why…?
And then, more disturbingly:
Why did it suit him so well!?
The only one who broke the silence was the Empress, as serene as ever:
"I'm glad they're safe."
Everyone nodded, as if that alone was enough to digest what they had seen.
They remembered the final battle scene, but comforted themselves knowing that if things had gone truly wrong, the hidden guards—assigned by the prince himself—would've intervened.
Apparently, the fugitives had been located days ago. What no one knew was how or why they were being pursued so fiercely.
The atmosphere eased… slightly.
The hall fell into silence once more—not the same as before.
This one was filled with unspoken questions, quiet resignation, and a shared truth between everyone present:
What are we going to do with these children…?
The answer, they all thought, would come with the next scandal.
When they returned to the capital.