Chapter 4 : The Bitter Truth of Matrimony

The territory of Gordon had meticulously cultivated an array of alliances, weaving a tapestry of strength and influence. Yet, among these alliances, none shone brighter than the formidable bond with Monaco, a realm that reigned supreme in both popularity and power. Within this illustrious partnership, Gordon stood as a distinguished and indispensable ally, its significance woven into the very fabric of Monaco's sovereignty.

Meanwhile, Paresthesia, another formidable entity, had also forged its own connections, extending tendrils of influence to the Territory of Agandel. It was within these hallowed lands that Maurine, Levyoka's sister, had been united in matrimony, cementing ties between noble houses. Agandel, nestled within the expansive domain of Monaco, held its own allure and significance as a constituent of the illustrious kingdom.

And within the confines of Agandel's regal court resided Tareon, the crowned prince of the Monaco kingdom—a figure of both admiration and intrigue. Despite being two years Levyoka's junior, Tareon had harbored a silent affection for her since their childhood days. His quiet admiration, concealed beneath the facade of royal decorum, whispered secrets of unspoken longing and forbidden desires amidst the corridors of power.

***

Tareon lounged in his regal chair, feet propped upon the table, a book veiling his slumbering visage. In his dreams, Levyoka appeared, wedded to a faceless suitor, her radiant smile directed at him. "You're adorable, little brother," Levyoka's voice echoed in Tareon's dream realm. Abruptly awakened, Tareon jolted, tumbling from his seat.

"Must I visit Levyoka?" he mused, rising before stumbling, attributing his clumsiness to thoughts of her. "Oh, Levyoka, why do you plague my thoughts?" he lamented, kicking the floor like a petulant child.

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"Huh, why am I suddenly thinking about Tareon, that foolish boy?" Levyoka mused from the balcony, observing the bustling activity below.

As time elapsed, Rafael arrived, flanked by his retinue of royal guards and carriages.

From one carriage emerged a woman adorned in pink, lifting her gaze skyward upon landing.

"Sister!" Levyoka exclaimed, recognizing her and hastening down the stairs to greet her.

Their arrival heralded the imminent marriage scheduled for the day after tomorrow. However, the attention seemed drawn towards Rafael, his charisma captivating the attending ladies. Amidst fleeting glances, hearts raced, entangled in uncertainty.

Levyoka's heart pounded, ensnared by Rafael's gaze, her playful demeanor summoned forth. "Where are you going, Levyoka?" Maurine inquired. "To rescue my little puppy from a pack of wolves," she quipped, winking at Maurine before striding confidently towards Rafael.

"Oh, my darling, you've arrived," Levyoka purred, her voice a velvet caress as she took measured steps closer to Rafael.

As Levyoka enveloped Rafael in her warm embrace, her melodious voice filled with honeyed tones echoed through the grand halls of the palace. With practiced grace, she swept towards him, her movements fluid and effortless, like a dancer performing on a grand stage. As her arms encircled him, her laughter rang out, as bright and sparkling as the stars above.

To Levyoka, it was all a game—a carefully orchestrated dance of wit and charm, designed to amuse and entertain. Behind her radiant smile, however, lay a mischievous glint, a hint of amusement at the roles they played. She was the enchantress, the temptress, and he, the unwitting pawn in her game of intrigue.

But for Rafael, her embrace held no allure, no captivation. Though her laughter danced like music in his ears, it stirred no emotion within him. He stood there, stoic and unmoved, his expression unreadable as stone. To him, Levyoka's antics were nothing more than a passing amusement, a fleeting distraction from the weighty matters of courtly affairs.

As the embrace lingered, Rafael remained steadfast, his gaze fixed upon the horizon, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. For him, there was no room for frivolity, no time for games of the heart. In the grand tapestry of royal politics, emotions were but fleeting shadows, easily cast aside in favor of duty and honor. And so, as Levyoka's embrace came to an end, Rafael remained unchanged, his resolve unshaken amidst the whirlwind of her playful charade.

Her bold actions rendered Maurine speechless, leaving her to retreat in embarrassment. Levyoka fixed a piercing gaze upon the girls surrounding Rafael, causing them to scatter in fear. Unaware of her own actions, Levyoka clung to Rafael until he remarked on her peculiar scent.

Intentionally stepping on Rafael's foot, Levyoka winced, only to witness Rafael's composed demeanor falter as he entered the palace, exhaling in pain. "It hurts, that vixen," he muttered under his breath.

***

As the dawn stretched into the day, time seemed to linger longer than ever within the walls of the royal palace. The air hummed with anticipation and the flurry of activity surrounding the upcoming royal marriage. Every corner of the palace bustled with preparations, as if the very stone walls themselves were attuned to the imminent celebration.

The orchestrators of the event, befittingly appointed designated officials, meticulously disseminated the news of the impending nuptials. Their duties extended beyond mere announcement, as they meticulously crafted and personally delivered the prestigious invitations to the esteemed high-ranking officials of the palace. Each invitation, a testament to the grandeur and significance of the occasion, bore the weight of tradition and expectation.

Within the confines of the opulent palace halls, the scene was set for the grand affair. Every detail meticulously attended to, every adornment meticulously placed, ensuring that no aspect of the ceremony would lack in splendor or significance. From the majestic archways adorned with billowing swathes of silk to the delicate arrangements of fragrant blooms that adorned every corner, the ambiance spoke of opulence and elegance.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow upon the scene, there remained but one unspoken truth: tomorrow, beneath the vaulted ceilings of the palace, amidst the whispered blessings of courtiers and the gentle rustle of silken robes, two souls would unite in matrimony. Tomorrow was the wedding day, a day destined to be etched into the annals of royal history, forever remembered as a celebration of love and union.

The sweet illusions shattered abruptly, leaving Levyoka to confront the stark reality before her. Seated before the ornate mirror, she watched as her sister, Maurine, slumbered peacefully in her bed, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Levyoka's mind.

As she turned to face Maurine, memories of her sister's wedding flooded Levyoka's thoughts like a relentless tide. She recalled the strained smiles exchanged between Maurine and her groom, Lwimor, during the ceremony—smiles that concealed a profound emptiness beneath their surface.

"Marriage, huh," Levyoka exhaled, her voice tinged with bitterness. To her, it appeared as nothing more than a burdensome obligation—an institution steeped in tradition yet devoid of true passion or connection.

In that moment of introspection, Levyoka couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for Maurine, ensnared in a union devoid of genuine affection. It was a sobering reminder that behind the façade of royal splendor lay a world fraught with complexities and compromises.

With a heavy heart, Levyoka turned away from the mirror, her thoughts consumed by the elusive concepts of love and matrimony. In the realm of royalty, where duty often eclipsed desire, the pursuit of such ideals felt like a futile endeavor—a distant dream shattered by the harsh realities of courtly life.