CHAPTER 77: A PROMISE

Logan gave a small wave back with a polite smile. "Goodnight."

The door closed behind them with a soft click.

Logan was alone now. He quietly sat on the edge of the bed.

He didn’t lie down immediately.

Instead, he just sat there for a while, staring at the flickering fire.

So much had happened today.

From fighting Rovan... which did a number on him, burning him almost naked... to discovering Lyra’s true identity...

Now, ending up here—in the royal palace of all places—Logan couldn’t ignore the curiosity tugging at him. Rowan spoke of a body strengthening method... one that sounded too much like cultivation.

The information and everything that happened today were too much to digest all at once.

His mind drifted back to the Third Eye Sect.

Zereth. The black-robed bastard who tried to steal his technique. Logan knew it was orchestrated by Mirena at first. But the kidnapping attempt was solely from their side to steal the technique. And now they are showing up again.

Logan leaned back on the bed, arms behind his head, staring at the high ceiling.

"I need to be careful," he murmured to himself. "No more surprises."

He closed his eyes, trying to let his body rest.

But his mind didn’t sleep. Not fully.

The fire crackled gently beside him. Outside, the wind rustled against the palace walls.

Inside his head, he made a promise.

"If they come again... I will make sure they don’t dare to follow me again."

Logan couldn’t risk anyone’s life who was close to her.

Logan’s thoughts eventually drifted into stillness. His body, exhausted from the tournament and everything that followed, finally gave in to rest. The fireplace burned low, casting a dim orange glow across the room.

Logan slowly fell asleep.

_______

A soft knock tapped against the door just as dawn light filtered through the curtains.

"Sir Logan?" a gentle voice called from outside. "Prince Rowan is waiting in the dining hall. Breakfast is ready."

Logan opened his eyes slowly. He slept well yesterday night and it had driven away all the fatigue from yesterday’s fight and long journey.

He sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and took a moment to adjust to the quiet luxury around him. The guest chamber was still, untouched, almost too pristine.

He went inside the washroom and freshened up. Then changed into a fresh tunic and trousers left on the table.

When he stepped outside, a staff member led him down the corridor. The palace looked different in the morning. Now the halls were bright, alive with faint murmurs of servants, the shimmer of morning sun hitting polished floors, and faint traces of flowers from vases set into marble alcoves.

The dining room wasn’t far. Not the grand banquet hall —this was a modest space once again. Personal, quiet.

Rowan was already seated at the table, sipping from a porcelain cup and glancing through a thin scroll in his hand. He looked up as Logan entered and gave a faint nod.

"You’re up. Good." He motioned to the seat across from him. "Have a seat. And enjoy your breakfast first."

Logan obliged, taking the offered chair. The breakfast was already set—flaky bread, soft cheese, fruit slices arranged neatly, a light stew with vegetables and meat and more.

"Prince, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble," Logan said, looking at the arrangement.

Rowan smiled faintly. "Trust me, this is nothing."

Logan gave a soft chuckle. "Come on, Prince. If this is nothing, then I don’t know what something would look like"

Rowan’s usual calm, closed-off demeanor had completely vanished.

They began eating in a calm, comfortable environment. The food items were light in nature but filling—exactly what Logan needed. After a sound sleep, this light but satisfying meal that will put his mind at ease for what lay ahead. The flavors were gentle, nothing extravagant, but crafted with care—just enough to settle the body and steady the thoughts.

Rowan finished chewing a slice of fruit, then leaned back. "After this, I’ll take you to the library. I’ll show you what I found—about the body strengthening techniques."

Logan paused mid-bite.

This is the sole purpose he was here for.

Rowan continued, " No one is interested in those old history books. And the language is also ancient. But with various references, I was able to crack the language. So i will help you understand it."

Logan nodded slowly. "I can’t wait to check it for myself."

"You’ll be more than curious once you read it," Rowan said, but before he could elaborate, footsteps echoed outside the room.

The door opened.

A tall figure entered—broad-shouldered, sharp-featured, with a presence that shifted the air in the room.

He wore a dark-blue formal robe trimmed in silver, his black hair combed back neatly. His expression was calm but sharp, eyes slightly narrowed like someone always measuring the worth of a room with a single glance.

"Ah," he said, voice smooth but commanding. "So it’s true. You really did win."

Rowan stood. "Elias."

Logan stood up and bowed slightly to show proper respect as well.

The newcomer stepped in, glancing once at Logan before returning his gaze to his younger brother. "I thought you were just spectating, but I heard from two noble houses you defeated some of the best in your age group."

Rowan replied calmly, "I did." Rowan’s calm and distant demeanour returned again.

Elias let out a low hum of praise. "Excellent. That’s how it should be done. People should learn more about what royal blood is capable of."

Then, finally, his eyes shifted to Logan again.

"And who is this?" he asked, tone neutral but edged.

Rowan stepped forward. "This is Logan Smith. From House Smith of Aerundal. He’s the one I dueled against in the semifinals."

"Smith?" Elias raised a brow. "I’ve heard the name. But I thought the heir everyone talks about from Smith family was Darius. But to think they would send another one and so young at that. And you are telling me he even reached the semifinals?"

Rowan offered a faint smile. "He reached the semifinals by winning against not just anyone. It was Rovan. Marquess Yale’s eldest son."

That made Elias pause.

He studied Logan again—this time with more focus.

Logan simply nodded once, offering a polite greeting. "An honor to meet you, Lord Elias."

Elias didn’t reply right away. Instead, he slowly walked around the table, then stopped just beside Rowan.

"So... why bring him here?"