“Is that His Highness the Second Prince?” Lorelai’s normally poised hand betrayed the slightest tremor in her surprise. “Why is he here?”

Lorenzo whirled around in disbelief and hurried to the window before Lorelai could remind him to be more discreet. 

There, among the guests, stood the enigmatic figure of Carlyle Argent, the second prince of the Argent Empire.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to her. For a dukedom as grand as the Ashburn duchy, it’s perfectly normal to have a member of the imperial family in attendance for the heir appointment ceremony. 

But why did it have to be Carlyle Argent? He was the only child of the second empress, Empress Matilda, and was well known for his indifference to politics and having a reputation as a troublemaker.

Lorelai couldn’t figure out where the truthful rumors end and the biased rumors begin. After all, both the second empress and the second prince were powerful mages, a type of existence distrusted by everyone in the Argent Empire, a land where the people fear magic.

Mages had existed in this land for as long as people can remember. But they were a minority. And those without magic distrusted those that did. It was a persistent bias that passed down from generation to generation. People believed that the mages’ presence was unnatural, a blasphemous defiance to the will of the empire’s god, Solarius. Because only priests were allowed to use those divine powers, under the guidance of Solarius.

The religion of the Argent Empire was the Church of Solarius, so it makes sense that there was a clash between the religious citizens and mages, whose existence was denounced by the Church.

There had been a truce between the Church of Solarius and the Tower of Mages for many generations. People will leave the mages alone, in exchange for access to the mages’ service, because people were nothing if not exploitative.

While some of the nobles were secretly mages, there was still a huge uproar when the recently widowed emperor took a mage to be his second wife just over two decades ago.

People have called Carlyle Argent many names, such as the reclusive prince, the empire’s wildcard, the magic-tainted whelp, and most damning title of all, the emperor’s cruel dog. The last title was granted to him because the emperor often sent him on missions to root out and arrest the corrupted nobles. And it was something that Carlyle did easily, thanks to the formidable magic he inherited from his mother. Yet, the service he did for the empire only served to heighten the nobles' resistance against him and earn him the reputation as cruel and scheming.

But what Lorelai did know was that he was responsible for the downfall of the noble house of her childhood friend, Geneva Winscroft. The long-standing Marquis House of Winscroft fell from power after a series of unfortunate coincidences weakened his finances. The last blow was when Carlyle dug up some long-forgotten debts they owed to the imperial family. Marquis Winscroft was forced to sell his title and lands to pay off his debts and moved his entire family to the countryside.

 It was by the Ashburns’ generosity that the Winscrofts could still afford to stay a member of the aristocrats by becoming vassals of the Ashburn duchy. However, it was clear that Geneva’s once-firm position in high society was gone, and the Winscrofts’ high-society status became nothing more than a distant memory.

Despite all the rumors, Lorelai had never seen Carlyle in person before, not even when she went to the capital to become knighted. Unfortunately, Lorenzo did have the misfortune of meeting him during his knighthood ceremony.

Something twisted in Lorelai’s gut, tight as a noose. Was it disgust? Distaste? Whatever it was, it simmered in her heart, poisoning her pleasant mood.

Her brother’s reaction to seeing the infamous prince was less controlled than hers, his shoulders sagging and his eyes widening in fear. “I don’t know, Lorelai. I didn’t expect anyone from the imperial family to come today.”

“I didn’t receive any word of his attendance either.” Lorelai’s voice was tight, barely concealing her growing turmoil. “Not on paper nor from Father.”

As if sensing his name being mentioned, Duke Ashburn turned from where he was mingling with guests to glance over at his children through the window. His expression was stern, as if reprimanding the twins to remember to behave themselves.

Lorelai tapped Lorenzo's back gently. “Straighten up, Lorenzo. No need to cower. He's in our territory this time.”

Lorenzo hurriedly obeyed her words, recollecting himself and tried forcing a smile back onto his face, although it appears to Lorelai like more of a painful grimace. “Don't worry, sister. I won't let someone like him spoil this day for me.”

Lorelai moved away from the window and walked out of the drawing room. “Let's finish preparing for the ceremony. It's about to begin.”

“Don’t mind me, Lorelai. I’m not the focus of the ceremony here.” Lorenzo replied wryly to her retreating back, his eyes still focused on Prince Carlyle’s figure as he entered the Ashburn mansion and disappeared out of view.

Once Lorelai returned to her room, maids assisted her in donning her specially crafted gown, tailored for this momentous day. It was dark gray with a blue undertone, the color of ashes, the color of the Ashburn family, and perfectly crafted so it wouldn’t constrain her movements too much and allowed her to conceal a blade within the skirt. Lorelai never went anywhere without a blade, although she was never in a situation where she had to use it before.

“Oh, my lady,” One of Lorelai’s maid, Bessie, her maid who had been by her side since Lorelai’s childhood, wiped a tear away from her eyes. “I can't believe how much you've grown.”

Lorelai chuckled gently. “Stop crying, Bessie. Not much will change after today. I'll still reside here, after all. It's merely the official acknowledgment of my status as Father's heir.”

“Besides,” Lorelai added with a hint of mischief in her voice. “if you're crying this much on the day I'm named heir, how many tears will you shed when I marry?”

Bessie managed a smile. “I'll probably cry a river, but at least you'll still be here after your wedding. Your groom will marry into this family, not the other way around.”

“That’s right, Bessie.” Lorelai hugged her. After her own mother died in childbirth, Bessie was the closest thing to a mother figure. 

“Happy 18th birthday, my lady,” Bessie said, dabbing her eyes. The other maids echoed the sentiment, pride gleaming in their gaze.

“Thank you,” Lorelai responded warmly. “Now stop getting all teary on me before I start crying too. I don’t have time to redo my makeup.”