Regrettably, as she exited the opulent banquet hall, Rezette snagged a passing figure who reeked of starch and authority. “The princess,” Rezette pressed, his voice clipped, “what’s her name?”
“It’s Her Highness, Elizabeth,” the man replied curtly.
Elizabeth Aseica. The name resonated with him, a classical melody infused with lineage. The long string of titles that followed only solidified her extraordinary bloodline and noble stature.
Rezette’s carefully constructed mask couldn’t quite contain the flicker of disquiet that sparked within him. An old yearning, one he’d believed extinguished, flared back to life – a deceitful warmth. He craved her, a primal need that clawed its way to the surface.
“…But is something amiss, sir?” the steward inquired, his gaze lingering on Rezette with a hint of suspicion. There was a glint of defiance in his eyes, surprising for a mere steward, even one hailing from the South. It seemed even the palace staff weren’t easily intimidated by the notorious warlord of Grandel.
“Her Highness the Princess doesn’t usually attend such minor events. She’s not someone who easily grants requests for visits either. Even if Your Majesty were to send an invitation, it would be of no use. After all, Her Highness the Princess is not yet considering marriage.”
“Her Highness is already past the age of majority. Why isn’t marriage planned?”
“She is very frail. Even the journey to the main palace is overwhelming for her. She tends to avoid public appearances.”
“Does she suffer from an illness?”
“Something similar.”
If her time outdoors was limited, she must indeed be delicate. A melancholic air seemed to linger around her delicate features, hinting at the possibility of poor health. It was no surprise then that her attire appeared so slight. Even though the South boasted of its warmth, even sweltering in certain seasons, to Rezette, hailing from the North, her clothing appeared scant.
The steward’s voice grew sharp. “Why this sudden inquiry, Your Majesty? If it’s mere curiosity, I urge you to reconsider.” His initial caution had morphed into thinly veiled contempt, as if privy to Rezette’s ungentlemanly thoughts.
Every Arganian, it seemed, held the princess in reverence, a fact evident even in the disdainful glance the steward cast at Rezette’s hand and sword. The implication was clear: a man of violence had no place near such purity.
Rezette found a perverse amusement in the steward’s animosity. It was a well-honed distrust. “How convenient,” he murmured. “Perhaps it’s best she remains a mystery.”
Indeed, a woman with such an aura of serenity deserved to be kept untouched. Rezette couldn’t help but recall the collection gathering dust in his storage in Rotiara. He signaled for a glass of wine.
This princess, a potential trophy, was far too valuable to be sullied. Especially if her fragility made even walking a challenge. Could she withstand his touch?
A hacking cough, sharper than usual, cut through the smoky air, extinguishing the embers of his fleeting impulse. Rezette curtly waved at the wheezing steward. “I will make sure to remember that. You are dismissed.”
With his envoy duties in Argan complete, Rezette swiftly departed for the royal palace. The captivating woman from the banquet was buried deep within him, a memory never to be revisited. Unless war engulfed Argan, their paths wouldn’t cross again.
The naive boy, ignorant of the world and his own desires, was gone. Ambition flared briefly before dying in the cold air. He rebuilt his icy walls, thicker and more impenetrable.
Emotionless, untouched by joy or sorrow, doubt or desire, Rezette embraced a sterile routine. It wasn’t happiness, but it was a hollow peace, an absence of despair and self-loathing. An artificial equilibrium.
Years blurred. The next year brought war. As Ugel’s ally in the Grandel North-South War, Rezette shattered Argan’s forces on both fronts, his resolve unwavering.
Then, fate, a wild mare charging into his stable, slammed into him on the eve of his return to Van Yela.
***
The dissipating smoke from the burning grass gradually cleared, revealing the scene to Rezette. With a clenched jaw, he tapped into his magic, causing black scales to surface on his right hand and forearm. Bones, muscles, and skin swiftly transformed as magic surged through him like lightning, dispelling the lingering remnants of the past.
As his vision sharpened, Rezette noticed the faint ember still flickering nearby, indicating that not much time had passed. His gaze locked onto the pair of yellow eyes fixed on him intently.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
Has it been centuries since you’ve been so bored? I never knew the Great Dragon had a hobby of prying into others’ pasts at will. I didn’t expect him to take such an interest in me, let alone to this extent.”
