CHAPTER 36: THE ROYAL LORENDIA SIBLINGS [1]

Once I stepped outside of the royal guest room, my eyes immediately found Oliver’s familiar figure, but my breath caught when I noticed the man standing beside him.

King Francis Lorendia himself.

I recognised him from some painting I saw hanging.

Even from a distance, he had quite a presence.. The afternoon sunlight caught the golden threads woven through his deep burgundy doublet, each stitch worth more than our entire village could hope to earn in a harvest season.

His blonde hair, perfectly styled despite the day’s proceedings and his amber gleamed bright.

Laurence Staple walked a respectful half-step behind them.

They passed by me without so much as a glance, their conversation muted but intense. I caught fragments—something about trade routes and northern territories—before they disappeared into the castle’s depths where Queen Emma of Briaran awaited.

What could bring two such powerful monarchs together in secret? An alliance perhaps? A marriage arrangement?

I pressed myself against the cool stone wall, straining to catch even the faintest echo of their discussion, but the castle’s thick walls swallowed their words completely. Eventually I had stop when one of the Knights of Lorendia glared at me.

Patience, I reminded myself.

Not yet.

I was still too young, still too untested.

Isabella and Rosaluna.

Until I could guarantee their safety, until I had the strength and influence to protect them from the consequences of political ambition, I would have to content myself with observation and preparation.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t explore.

I waited until the Briaran knight’s attention drifted to a serving girl carrying wine, then slipped away from my post with practiced stealth. The castle’s corridors beckoned like the pages of an unread book, each turn promising new discoveries.

The architecture was breathtaking in its grandeur. Vaulted ceilings soared high above my head, supported by pillars carved with intricate designs that seemed to dance in the flickering torchlight.

I found myself wondering about the countless workers who must have labored for years to create such magnificence—the stonemasons who had carved each block, the artisans who had woven each thread, the architects who had dreamed this place into existence.

"Faster, brother!"

The urgent whisper echoed from somewhere ahead, followed by the rapid patter of feet against stone.

"I... I know!" Came a breathless reply.

"Hannah will catch us—uuhn!"

The collision happened so suddenly that I barely had time to react. A small figure came barreling around the corner at full speed, clearly not expecting anyone to be standing in the corridor. My reflexes kicked in before my mind could catch up, and I found myself reaching out instinctively, my hand closing around a delicate, surprisingly soft arm.

Time seemed to freeze.

We stood there for a heartbeat, both of us caught off guard by the unexpected contact. I found myself looking down into the most striking pair of amber eyes I had ever seen—eyes that sparkled with intelligence and mischief despite their current state of surprise. Her blonde hair had come loose from whatever elaborate style it had been arranged in, creating a golden halo around a face that was already showing signs of the remarkable beauty she would undoubtedly possess in a few years.

She couldn’t have been more than eleven or twelve, but there was something about her bearing, even in this moment of undignified collision, that spoke of royal breeding. The gown she wore—all silk and silver embroidery—confirmed my suspicions even before I noticed the small golden circlet that had shifted sideways on her head.

Princess Eleanora of Lorendia.

It had to be.

"I apologize," I said, helping her regain her balance while being careful not to seem too familiar. "I hadn’t seen you coming."

"N... No... I’m fine, but..." She blinked up at me several times, and I recognized the expression that crossed her delicate features. It was the same look of fascination that I had grown accustomed to receiving—that mixture of surprise and admiration that my unusual appearance seemed to inspire in people, regardless of their age or station.

"Who might you be?"

I turned to find another young person standing nearby—a boy perhaps two years older than me, with the same blond hair and amber eyes as Eleanora.

Prince William, without question.

"Harold," I replied. "Pardon my forwardness, but just to confirm—might you be the Prince and Princess of the Lorendia Kingdom?"

William nodded curtly, crossing his arms in a gesture that was probably meant to look intimidating but mostly succeeded in making him appear younger than his years. "Yes, I am William, and this is my sister, Eleanora."

"Then it is indeed a great pleasure to meet Your Highnesses," I said, placing my hand over my heart and offering them what I hoped was a charming smile.

Perfect.

Two royal children, close to my own age, and clearly in need of an ally if they were running from their minders.

"Hmm, are you a noble or something?" William asked, his head tilted slightly as he studied me. "I’ve never seen you before, and I know all the noble children who visit the castle."

"Wait, brother!" Eleanora suddenly grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with renewed panic. "We don’t have time for questions! Hannah will find us!"

As if summoned by her words, a woman’s voice echoed from the corridor to our left, growing steadily closer.

"Princess! My Prince! Where are you?"

"Oh no!" Eleanora whispered, looking around desperately for an escape route.

I didn’t hesitate. Spotting a nearby door that looked like it might lead to one of the castle’s many guest chambers, I quickly moved to open it. The room beyond was empty but well-appointed, with a large bed covered in rich fabrics and a window that looked out over the gardens.

"Here," I said simply, gesturing for them to enter.

Both royal children blinked at me in surprise, as if they hadn’t expected a stranger to help them in their moment of need. But desperation overcame suspicion, and they quickly slipped inside. I closed the door softly behind them just as footsteps approached the corner.

Arranging my features into an expression of innocent curiosity, I walked forward casually, turning the corner to come face-to-face with their pursuer.

Hannah was not at all what I had expected.

She was perhaps twenty-five years old, with glossy black hair pinned back in an elegant style that suggested she was far more than an ordinary servant. Her grey eyes were intelligent and observant, missing nothing as they swept over me with obvious curiosity.

This was no common maid for sure.

Anyway I approached her.

"Are you perhaps looking for the Prince and Princess, Milady?"

Her eyes lit up with hope and relief. "Oh, yes! Did you see them, young man?"

I gestured toward the large windows that lined the corridor, their diamond-paned glass offering a perfect view of the castle’s extensive gardens. "I saw them heading outside just a few moments ago. They seemed to be making their way toward the rose gardens, if I’m not mistaken."

Hannah sighed deeply, though there was fondness mixed with her exasperation. "Those two and their adventures," she murmured, then smiled at me with genuine gratitude. "Thank you so much for your help. I don’t know what I’d do without kind souls like you."

"It was my pleasure to assist," I replied, watching as she hurried toward the nearest exit to the gardens, her footsteps echoing purposefully down the corridor.

I waited until she had completely disappeared from sight before returning to the guest room. When I opened the door, I found both William and Eleanora pressed against the far wall, listening intently for any sign of discovery.

"She’s gone to the gardens," I reported quietly. "You should be safe for now."

Eleanora practically sagged with relief, while William straightened up and smiled at me.

"Thank you," he said, and there was real gratitude in his voice. "You just saved us from another lengthy lecture about ’proper royal deportment’ and ’the dignity befitting our stations.’" He rolled his eyes as he quoted what were obviously familiar refrains.

"Yes, thank you, Harold!" Eleanora giggled. "Hannah means well, but sometimes she can be terribly persistent when she thinks we’re shirking our duties."

"If I may ask, what exactly were you running from?" I asked.

Eleanora and William exchanged a meaningful glance, one of those silent conversations that only siblings can have. After a moment, Eleanora’s natural impulsiveness won out over caution.

"Well, you see, brother is going to be engaged to a foreign princess, and we wanted to stop it from happening," she said in a rush, as if the words might lose their power if spoken too slowly.

"Eleanora!" William’s face flushed crimson as he whirled toward his sister. "What are you saying? You can’t just tell a complete stranger about—"

"But it’s true, brother!" She interrupted, crossing her arms. "We have to barge into their discussion and stop it before they finalize anything!"

The pieces clicked into place with almost audible precision. Queen Emma’s unexpected presence, the secretive meeting with King Francis, the carefully guarded conversations—it all made perfect sense now. This was about Princess Judith, about forging a political alliance between Briaran and Lorendia through the ancient mechanism of royal marriage.

"I see," I said carefully, weighing my words. "But don’t you think it would be rather rude to interrupt such an important discussion? The King might be quite displeased with such behavior, and Queen Emma..." I let the implication hang in the air.

"But we have to do something," Eleanora insisted, her amber eyes flashing with determination as she glanced at her brother. William’s expression had grown increasingly conflicted, torn between duty and something far more personal.

"Leave it, Eleanora," he said finally, his voice heavy with resignation. "I am the Prince. This is my duty, whether I like it or not."

The defeat in his tone surprised me.

I thought he would be arrogant fitting his status as Royal Prince but he seemed surprisingly very good

"May I ask why you’re so opposed to this marriage, Your Highness?" I inquired, genuinely curious. "Princess Judith is certainly well-suited for the role, isn’t she? Beautiful, intelligent, of appropriate rank..."

William’s jaw tightened, and for a moment I thought he might refuse to answer. But Eleanora, bless her forthright nature, had no such reservations.

"Brother is in love with Harriet," she announced, crossing her arms with the satisfaction of someone revealing a well-kept secret. "That’s why he doesn’t want to marry Princess Judith."

"Eleanora! Enough!" William’s face had progressed from pink to deep red, embarrassment warring with frustration in his expression.

"Would this be Lady Harriet a noble?" I asked next.

"Of course she is!" William retorted. "She’s Count Dekalan’s daughter, not some common—" He stopped himself, perhaps remembering that he was speaking to someone of decidedly uncommon birth.

"Ah, but Count Dekalan, while certainly respectable, is hardly royal," I pointed out gently. "Princess Judith is, quite literally, a princess. The political advantages alone..."

"I know that," William said through gritted teeth. "Don’t you think I know that? That’s exactly why we can’t..." He trailed off, unable or unwilling to voice the impossibility of his situation.

I found myself genuinely sympathetic to his plight. Love was a luxury that royalty could rarely afford, and William was learning that lesson far younger than most. Still, there might be alternatives worth exploring.

"Could you not take Lady Harriet as a second wife?" I suggested diplomatically. "Or perhaps as an official consort? Many kings have made such arrangements to balance political necessity with personal preference."

"No." William’s response was immediate and sharp, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"Harriet’s father wouldn’t accept anything less than the crown," Eleanora explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "Count Dekalan is quite... ambitious in his expectations."

"Ah," I said, understanding dawning. "Count Dekalan seems rather greedy in his demands."

"He is," Eleanora replied with a wry smile. "But then again, he has rather poor relations with our father. I think he sees Harriet’s marriage as his chance to improve his standing at court."

The situation was becoming clearer by the moment. This wasn’t just a simple case of young love versus duty—it was a complex web of political ambitions, family rivalries, and competing interests. Count Dekalan, clearly understanding his daughter’s hold over the prince, was using that leverage to demand the impossible: a commoner’s daughter elevated to queen over a foreign princess.

"I’m afraid I must agree that breaking such an engagement would be nearly impossible," I said thoughtfully. "The best your Highness could hope for would be convincing Count Dekalan to accept a lesser position for his daughter. Perhaps if the right incentives were offered..."

William looked at me with sudden hope, as if I might possess some magical solution to his dilemma. "But how? How could we possibly convince him?"

I spread my hands apologetically. "Your Highness, I’m merely a commoner from a small village. I wouldn’t presume to understand the intricacies of noble politics well enough to offer specific advice."

The hope in William’s eyes flickered and died. "That’s... right," he sighed, his shoulders sagging with disappointment.

"You’re really a commoner?" Eleanora had been listening to our exchange, but now she looked at me with renewed curiosity, as if seeing me in an entirely different light.

"Yes, from a small village in the western territories," I confirmed.

Her face lit up with sudden interest. "The west? Oh, how wonderful! I recently made a friend who comes from a village in the west as well." She giggled with the delight of coincidence. "Perhaps you know her? Though I suppose the western territories are quite vast..."

My mind immediately jumped to Rumia, but I dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it formed. The coincidence would be too extraordinary, and besides, Rumia’s family connections were to minor nobility, not royalty. Still, I found myself curious about this western friend of the princess.

"How did you end up here, then?" William asked, his earlier disappointment giving way to curiosity about my unusual circumstances. "It’s not every day that a village commoner finds himself wandering the halls of the royal castle."

I had prepared for this question, crafting a response that contained enough truth to be believable while omitting the more complicated aspects of my situation. "I came with Queen Emma’s party," I explained. "On their journey to the capital, they were generous enough to accept my company after I assisted them with directions and local knowledge. I’ll be departing with them when they leave."

William’s expression grew complicated, shadows crossing his features. "You... you came with the Queen’s party. I see."

"You must have met Princess Judith, then?" Eleanora asked, her eyes bright with curiosity. "What is she like? We’ve heard descriptions, of course, but I’d love to hear from someone who’s actually spoken with her."

I considered my words carefully, aware that my description could influence how these royal siblings viewed their potential sister-in-law. "Princess Judith is... quite proud of her royal status," I said. "She has strong opinions about proper behavior and social hierarchy. But I believe she has a kind heart beneath the formality."

William’s face fell further at my words, and I realized that my attempt at diplomacy might have backfired. Perhaps I should have emphasized Judith’s more appealing qualities.

Eleanora, however, seemed delighted by my description. She giggled again, covering her mouth with her hand. "Did she scold you for your common birth?"

"Not exactly," I smiled, remembering some of our more pointed exchanges. "She was... direct in expressing her opinions, but not unkind."

There was something about Judith’s personality that reminded me of a term from Japan.

Tsun—something?

"There you are."

The voice cut through my contemplation. The door swung open to reveal Hannah, and despite the smile on her lips, there was something distinctly dangerous in her grey eyes.

Crap.