Elias Leywin POV
The sharp autumn air stung my skin as I exhaled. The warm fog from my breath bloomed across the carriage window before slowly fading away.
A loud yawn from the boy sitting opposite me pulled my attention back inside.
Curtis sprawled across the plush seat with both arms hooked behind his head, looking far too comfortable for someone dressed in stiff formal wear. His navy-blue blazer had come half undone somewhere between climbing into the carriage and waiting for the gate to activate, and his silver cravat now hung loose around his collar like a ribbon that had long since given up its purpose.
"Ugh," he groaned, stretching until the seat creaked beneath him. "How much longer do we have to wait for this stupid gate? I thought being a prince meant I could avoid boring travel."
"Being a prince doesn't mean you get to ignore magical laws of spatial interference," Director Goodsky replied lightly.
She didn't even look up from the slim book resting in her lap. Her posture remained perfectly straight, white robes glowing faintly beneath the soft mana-lights fixed along the carriage ceiling.
"The anchors must realign every few minutes when using gates across such long distances," she continued, calmly turning a page. "You would know that if you actually paid attention in your theory classes."
Curtis rolled his eyes so dramatically that I was surprised they didn't fall out. He leaned forward with a grin aimed squarely at me. "See what I have to deal with? Imagine getting lectured during a carriage ride."
I smiled a little as I cut in. "You started it," I said, lifting my hands in surrender.
"Traitor," Curtis gasped, pressing a hand against his chest as though I had stabbed him.
Being around Curtis always did that. His jokes were dumb more often than not, but the way he treated me, like an equal rather than a younger kid tagging along, made it easy to forget the gap between us. Prince or not, he acted more like the kind of older brother who would drag you into trouble and laugh the whole way through it.
The carriage suddenly lurched.
A low hum filled the air as waves of mana rippled through the cabin, vibrating faintly beneath my boots. The windows shimmered with pale light. The fog on the window cleared, revealing the first glimpses of Etistin beyond the glass.
Beyond that gate lay a giant city, stretching far and wide in every direction. The smell of salt filled my nostrils, and the sound of seagulls played in my ears. It was a marvel of architecture, and easily bigger than Xyrus city.
Our journey continued as I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding.
"That was your first time travelling via Teleportation, wasn't it?" my teacher asked, closing her book with a thud, a thin smile lining her lips.
I nodded my head.
"How do you feel?" she asked, looking down at me as if she were my grandmother.
"I'm fine, thank you, Director," I replied, smiling back at the now-annoyed woman.
The carriage rolled forward again, joining the flow of traffic entering the city.
The first district we passed through was filled with adventurers.
Broad-shouldered warriors walked the streets in mismatched armour, while robed mages haggled with merchants over glittering beast cores displayed on velvet cloth. Not long after, the scenery shifted into quieter residential streets where common folk went about their day. Stalls crowded the streets on both sides, each more colourful than the last. Freshly caught fish lay neatly arranged on slabs of ice that shimmered faintly with magic to keep them cold. Vendors shouted prices over one another while customers weaved between them, carrying baskets of food and supplies.
My eyes drifted from one storefront to another.
Without thinking, I grabbed the cord hanging from the carriage ceiling and yanked it down, causing a horn to beep.
Before anyone could react, I kicked the door open.
"Lias, what are you-"
Before Curtis finished, I jumped out of the carriage.
Not wasting any time, I sprinted back towards the store we passed mere moments prior.
The sign above the storefront had barely finished swinging when I slipped through, the chime of its bell echoing overhead.
Inside was like a different world. The lighting was dim, but warm. The golden lamps set into the high ceiling made the polished floors gleam and throw long, dramatic shadows across the walls. And those walls were covered by… swords.
Swords of every making and style were mounted in careful rows. Curved sabres, straight longswords, thin duelling rapiers with ornate guards, even a massive great sword hung above the hearth like a dragon's fang. Some glimmered with embedded gems, others pulsed faintly with mana.
It was magnificent.
I took a hesitant step forward. My breath caught in my throat.
A man appeared from behind the counter.
He was tall and narrow-faced, his thinning hair slicked back so tightly it shone beneath the lamps. His dark vest and stiff collar gave him the look of someone who valued order far more than comfort.
"Well?" he said, raising a brow, voice sharp and impatient. "What do you want?"
I blinked. "I was just looking-"
"This isn't a toy shop, Kid," he cut me off. "We don't do gawkers. Go play knights somewhere else."
His words struck me harder than they should have.
"I wasn't going to touch anything," I muttered, but he was already waving a hand toward the door.
"You think I haven't seen kids come in here trying to show off with their little mana tricks? Out, before you break something you can't afford to breathe near."
I stood my ground, though my cheeks burned. "I ain't just some kid."
"No?" He sneered. "Then where's your coin, boy?"
He took another step towards me. The bell above the door chimed again.
"I'm sorry about the boy," she said tightly. Her eyes were locked on me like a hawk that had just spotted a mouse. "He was told to remain in the carriage."
"I just wanted to look-" I winced.
"I could see that." Her tone cut through the air like a blade. "That doesn't mean you should have run off."
"I didn't run," I mumbled. "I-I-um…" I said, fumbling, unable to think of an appropriate response.
Her gaze narrowed. The clerk cleared his throat.
"Well, I- of course, no harm done," the shopkeeper said quickly, his tone changing so fast it made my ears ring. "We welcome all kinds here, truly, especially when accompanied by such… distinguished guests." He gave a slight bow, eyes flickering with new interest. "You'll forgive me, Madam Director. I didn't realise the boy was yours."
Cynthia exhaled through her nose. "He isn't mine, he's my student."
"Of course," the man nodded with a strained smile. "Please, young sir," he added, turning back to me with a sudden syrupy politeness, "Feel free to browse. All our pieces are of the finest make, imported from the likes of Elshire and Darv."
Caught off guard by the complete reversal of this man's attitude. My teacher crossed her arms, unimpressed. The door opened again behind us, and this time it was Curtis who strode in, dusting imaginary lint from his shoulder and squinting as he adjusted to the interior light.
"There you are, Lias," he said, his voice casually upbeat. "You know, when you jump out of a moving carriage, you make me look irresponsible."
The Shopkeeper's eyes fell on the young prince. He stumbled back a step. "P-Prince Curtis!" he stammered, colour draining from his pallet.
Curtis frowned. "Uh… yeah?"
The man didn't wait for confirmation. With a strangled gasp, he dropped to his knees so hard the wooden floor gave a dull thump. His nose brushed against the floor.
"Your Highness, please forgive my ignorance. I didn't recognise you or your companions; I meant no disrespect."
I looked at an uncomfortable Curtis, who watched the scene, trying his hardest not to laugh.
"Please, allow me to offer the finest service this establishment can provide you," the shopkeeper blurted from his same prone position. "Anything, anything at all is yours, no charge, your presence here is an honour."
"Okay, yeah, this is getting weird now," Curtis muttered.
Cynthia shook her head, already turning toward the nearest display wall. "You have five minutes, Elias. After that, we are leaving," she said coolly.
"Yes, Director," I replied quickly.
---
The streets grew quieter the deeper our carriage rolled into the city. The lively noise of merchants and shouting vendors faded behind us, replaced by wide roads lined with polished stone and tall estates guarded by wrought iron gates. Even the air seemed different here, calmer, heavier somehow.
Then the road curved along the shoreline, and I saw it.
Glayder Castle rose above the city like a monument carved from the cliffs themselves.
Calling it a castle felt almost wrong. The sprawling mass of white stone looked less like a noble residence and more like a fortress built to withstand a siege. Towering spires climbed toward the sky, their silver-trimmed peaks glinting beneath the afternoon sun. Along the battlements, the royal banner of House Glayder snapped sharply in the ocean wind
Our carriage rolled to a smooth stop at the base of a sweeping marble stairway.
The door had barely opened before attendants appeared.
Maids and butlers moved into place with practised precision, forming two perfect lines along the courtyard. Dark coats, white gloves, and the Glayder crest gleamed in the light as they stood shoulder to shoulder like soldiers welcoming a victorious army home.
"Showtime," Curtis groaned before then plastering on a dazzling smile as he stepped out, raising a hand in mock salute to the waiting staff.
My teacher followed, every inch the dignified mage.
I swallowed, nerves fluttering like butterflies in my chest as I stepped out onto the smooth stone courtyard. The wind tugged gently on my clothes, and my boots echoed as I moved to stand beside Curtis.
At the front of the waiting attendants, a tall woman stepped forward.
Her grey hair was braided tightly and coiled neatly at the back of her neck. Fine lines traced the edges of her eyes and mouth, but they only seemed to sharpen the quiet authority in her posture.
"Master Elias Leywin," she began, her voice calm and steady. "On behalf of House Glayder, allow me to welcome you to the royal estate. I am Gerra, head of the domestic staff. It is an honour to receive you."
Heat crept up my face as every pair of eyes briefly settled on me.
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could stumble through anything resembling a proper greeting, Gerra had already straightened upright.
"Your quarters have been prepared," she continued, turning back to me with a polite smile. "If you'll follow me, I shall escort you there. Your formal attire for the evening banquet has been arranged to your specifications."
My eyes widened. "You know my-"
"We make it our business to know, young master," she replied smoothly, already turning with measured grace.
I hurried after her, casting a quick glance back toward Curtis. He simply flashed me a thumbs-up before wandering off in the opposite direction like someone who had done this a hundred times before.
The castle interior swallowed us in cool marble and polished oak.
The entry hall arched high above our heads, its ceiling lined with chandeliers crafted from crystal mana-glass that shimmered softly in the light. Thick rugs muffled our footsteps as we walked, their patterns so intricate they almost looked painted.
Portraits of Glayder kings and queens lined the walls. Between them hung enormous tapestries woven with scenes from Sapin's history, battles, coronations, and long forgotten victories stitched in careful thread.
Gerra led me through corridor after corridor with effortless confidence, turning corners without hesitation. Eventually, we climbed a spiral staircase that wound upward through the stone like the inside of a tower.
At the top, she stopped before a heavy wooden door.
It swung open soundlessly beneath her touch.
"This will be your room for the duration of your stay," she said, stepping aside.
I stepped inside.
The room was far quieter than I expected. Elegant rather than extravagant. Though that was for the better since this room already dwarfed my own back in the Helsea's manor. I crossed the room and ran a hand along the soft sheets of the bed that was far too big for me.
Laid out across it with precision was my outfit that the head maid had promised. A tailored white tunic with silver trim, a deep blue sash, and black trousers with polished black shoes sat on the floor. A navy cape hung nearby, clasped with a brooch that shimmered faintly.
"We took the liberty of enchanting the stitching for comfort and temperature control," Gerra explained. "Should you require any adjustments, our seamstress is on standby. The banquet begins at dusk."
I nodded slowly, still absorbing everything around me.
She bowed once more.
"A servant will be stationed outside your door. Ring the bell if you require anything."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
For a while, I simply stood there. The quiet hum of mana-crystals filled the room as their soft light flickered against the walls. My gaze drifted between the outfit, the glowing sunset outside the window, and the polished furniture around me.
"Okay," I murmured under my breath. I ran my fingers across the smooth fabric of the tunic before sitting down on the edge of the bed.
After another moment, I stood and walked to the door. My knuckles struck the oak door.
It opened almost immediately. A young man in his late teens stood waiting outside with a polite smile. "Young master Elias, how can I be of service?" he asked, raising one hand to his opposite shoulder.
I stepped aside and pointed toward the bed.
"Do I need to wear all of those?" I asked, still eyeing the pile of formal clothing with suspicion.
The servant leaned slightly to look inside.
"Well, young master," he said thoughtfully, one hand drifting to his chin, "as tonight is only a meal between yourself and the Royal family, I believe it would be acceptable for you to wear just the tunic and trousers."
Relief settled in my chest.
---
I sat straighter than I ever had in my life, my back stiff against the chair as my hands rested carefully in my lap beneath the heavy linen napkin. The crystal glass beside my plate quivered slightly every time I shifted, and I kept a wary eye on it as if it might betray me at any moment.
The royal dining hall was not quite what I had expected.
It was still enormous, with polished marble floors and tall windows stretching nearly to the ceiling, but the long dining table was only half occupied. A single chandelier cast a warm glow over the table, its candles flickering gently above us. The walls were painted with quiet landscapes instead of dramatic battle scenes, and the servants who stood along the edges of the room moved so quietly they might as well have been part of the furniture.
What filled the hall most, however, was laughter.
Curtis chuckled as he scoffed a mouthful of bread while Kathyln wrinkled her nose at him from across the table.
"You're a barbarian," she declared primly, watching him struggle to chew properly. "Honestly, it's like eating next to a troll."
"That's Prince Troll to you," Curtis corrected, grinning as he wiped his mouth with a napkin in an exaggerated pomp.
"You're just so…," she muttered as her hands tightened around her cutlery.
King Blaine let out a soft snort from the head of the table, lowering his goblet. "Children, at least wait until dessert to insult each other."
"They have been like this since they were small," Queen Priscilla said as she looked to me, her voice lilting with amusement as she sliced delicately into her roasted pheasant. "Curtis used to hide olives in Kathyln's pockets."
"I only did that once!" Curtis protested, leaning dramatically across the table to make his point. "And it was funny! Extremely so."
Kathyln narrowed her eyes. "They were squashed olives. I had to change gowns."
I pressed my lips together, trying not to smile too obviously. I didn't know what to expect when I was invited to dine with the Royal Family of Sapin, but I certainly hadn't imagined this.
"Elias," the King said, his voice cutting through the bickering siblings. "You've barely touched your food. Is it not to your liking?"
"Oh! N-no, Your Majesty! It's really good, I mean, delicious. I'm just-um-eat slow," I stammered, ears burning.
Curtis nudged me with his elbow. "Relax. He's not going to banish you for not finishing your carrots."
I gave a nervous chuckle, though I wasn't entirely sure if Curtis was right.
Queen Priscilla gave me a kind smile. "You're our guest, Elias. You don't need to be nervous. We're not so different from commoners," she added as she sliced another chunk of pheasant.
King Blaine cleared his throat softly. He set down his goblet. "Not so different in some ways, perhaps," he said, his voice calm but firm, "Though I'd like to think we have some decorum left, especially with a certain someone's birthday tomorrow."
Kathyln's fork paused mid-air. "Father…"
Curtis immediately leaned back with a grin. "Ah, yes, the grand day approaches. The trumpets, the banners, the avalanche of hand-wrapped gifts…"
"I don't want a parade," Kathyln muttered.
"You're getting one anyway," Curtis said brightly, teasing his baby sister. "I saw the trumpeters rehearsing on our way in this morning. Very dramatic, right, Elias?" he smiled with a nod.
"They seemed to be taking it quite seriously," I added, playing along with the Prince of humanity.
Queen Priscilla gave a soft laugh as she reached for her wine. "It's not a full parade, dear. Just a ceremonial procession through the upper garden."
Kathyln groaned quietly, resting her chin in one hand.
Curtis shot me a wink. "Which means tonight was the last calm dinner we would get before all the nobles and fussy dukes descended."
I stiffened instinctively. "Do I have to attend the formal part too?"
"You're a personal guest of the Royal family," Queen Priscilla replied with a smile. "We wouldn't dream of leaving you out."
"Oh…"
"You'll be fine," Curtis said, nudging me again. "Just don't trip on the carpet. Or spill anything. Or sneeze on a duke like Kat did that one time." He said, counting on his fingers.
"That was you, Curtis," Kathyln said flatly.
---
Hello everyone, Rius here,
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. See you tomorrow for Chapter 17.
Thank you to Lancelot Dragonroad for beta-reading and editing.
Rius Out.