The Land Of Starlight.

As Hunter and Lysandra made their way through the winding halls of Veladore Castle, sunlight danced through the stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns on the stone walls. They walked in comfortable silence, each lost in thought, until they nearly ran into their younger brother, Alan.

Alan bore a striking resemblance to Hunter, save for his crumpled tunic, unruly golden hair, and the faint scent of the stables clinging to him. Despite his disheveled appearance, his tall, lean body exuded a wild charm that enamored anyone who set eyes on him. His green eyes, reminiscent of Veladore's lush forests, sparkled with a mischievous light.

Without a doubt, Alan Blackthorn was a sight to behold.

"Alan," Lysandra said, arching a delicate eyebrow, her sapphire eyes glinting with suspicion. "What trouble are you running from this time?"

Alan smirked, leaning casually against the wall with a confidence that could only belong to someone who got away with far too much. "Trouble? Me? Never. Just giving old Bartholomew's prized mare a little run around the fields. Turns out she likes a good gallop."

Hunter crossed his arms, giving Alan a pointed look. "You mean you were racing again."

Alan shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes. "Only a little. You should've seen her—like a thunderbolt!"

Lysandra smirked. "And Bartholomew? Thunderbolting after you, I assume?"

Alan laughed, his grin widening. "Let's just say I left him in the dust. But enough about me. What's got you two looking so serious?"

Hunter's expression hardened. "Cthona has come begging for help. Seems they've run into trouble with Virellian."

Alan's grin faded, replaced by a look of surprise. "Cthona? The same Cthona that turned their noses up at us last year? And now they want our help?"

Lysandra nodded, her tone dry. "Funny how quickly pride takes a backseat when Virellian comes knocking."

Alan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "So, the mighty Cthona needs saving. What's the plan? Send them a fruit basket and wish them luck?"

Hunter chuckled, but his voice carried a serious edge. "We'll help, but not too much. Just enough to keep them from collapsing. We don't want them getting too comfortable."

Alan smirked. "Smart. Let them know we're not a charity, but we're not heartless either. And Virellian?"

Lysandra frowned slightly, her fingers absently brushing against the hilt of her sword. "The court hasn't got much information about them. What do we know?"

Hunter's gaze darkened. "Only I know is that Virellian isn't a simple kingdom, especially with their second prince—Kaelen Drakon. The spies say he's a devil. He doesn't care about children, women, or the elderly. One small mistake, and he cuts their heads off. He even killed his own brother because he was next in line for the throne. Kaelen Drakon doesn't just want to expand his territory—he wants the whole Avalon continent under his rule!" 

Lysandra's blue eyes widened, a chill running down her spine. "He killed his own brother?" she whispered, the words heavy with disbelief. "That's... monstrous."

Before Hunter could respond, a loud cry echoed through the corridor. They turned to see Ace, their father's magical pet eagle, soaring towards them. The magnificent creature, with feathers shimmering in shades of gold and silver, landed gracefully on Lysandra's outstretched arm, a small scroll clutched in its talons.

Lysandra untied the scroll, scanning the message quickly. "It's from Father. He and Mother are traveling to Azeroth, the land of eternal starlight. We're to prepare for the evening court—dressed as splendidly as possible."

Alan's eyebrows shot up. "Azeroth? The land of eternal starlight?"

Hunter's expression mirrored Alan's surprise. "That's not on the Avalon continent. It's said to be the bone of a dead divine entity, restructured into a living land."

Lysandra sighed. "And we're expected to make an impression. Great, just what I needed—another evening of courtly fashion and formalities."

Alan laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Lys. Think of it as a chance to outshine everyone. Besides, I'm sure Father has something grand planned."

Hunter smirked. "You just want to wear that ridiculous gold cloak again."

Alan winked. "Guilty as charged. Can't let the starlight outshine me, after all."

Their laughter echoed through the castle as they continued down the hall.

Later, in Lysandra's room, the atmosphere was serene. She slid into the steaming bath with a contented sigh, the tension from the morning's sparring session melting away. The water, scented with lavender and a hint of rose, filled the room with a soothing aroma. She stretched out her slender legs, letting the heat soak into her muscles.

Yet, her mind was far from at peace, consumed by one name: Kaelen Drakon. She couldn't help but wonder—how could someone like him exist? A man who showed no regard for women, children, or the elderly, treating their lives as worthless. And to kill his own brother for selfish ambition? He wasn't human. He was simply a cold-hearted bastard who valued nothing, not even life itself. 

She prays she never crosses paths with that heartless bastard, for if she does, she fears she won't be able to restrain her blade from severing his head and mounting it on the castle walls as justice for the innocent lives he unjustly took.

Her maid, Elise, stood nearby, holding a soft, embroidered towel. Her auburn hair was neatly pinned back, and her ever-watchful brown eyes sparkled with amusement. "That was quite the duel this morning, Your Highness. Did you let Prince Hunter win, or was it an honest tie?" she asked, pulling Lysandra out of her thoughts.

Lysandra chuckled, leaning her head back against the edge of the tub. "A tie, I assure you. Hunter might be stronger, but I'm quicker. Besides, I didn't want to bruise his ego too much before court."

Elise grinned, dipping a sponge into the bathwater. "How thoughtful of you. I'm sure Prince Hunter appreciates your mercy, Princess."

Maren, the younger maid with a mischievous glint in her chestnut eyes, entered with a basket of fresh linens. "Mercy? From you, Your Highness? That's a first."

Lysandra splashed water in Maren's direction, pouting as the maid dodged. "I can be merciful when I want to be, Maren. Just ask Hunter."

Maren laughed, setting the linens down on a nearby stool. "I'll be sure to let him know, Your Highness."

As the bathwater began to cool, Elise stepped forward, holding out the towel. "Time to get you ready for the evening court, Your Highness."

Lysandra stood, water cascading off her pale skin. Her maids quickly wrapped her in the towel, the fabric plush and comforting. She stepped out of the bath, her feet sinking into the thick rug, and allowed them to dry her off.

As she sat before the vanity, Elise began brushing her long black curls, her movements gentle and practiced. "Speaking of the court, what's this about Cthona, Your Highness? The rumors are spreading like wildfire."

Lysandra's fingers paused mid-motion as she reached for the jar of face cream, her thoughts momentarily drifting back to the situation at hand. "Cthona... yes, the situation's delicate." She turned to Elise, her expression thoughtful. "Some nobles think it's a potential ally, while others are convinced it's a threat. It's... complicated."

Elise sighed. "It's just like the rumors. No one can agree on anything. But your father will want you to tread carefully, and the council will need clear guidance from you," she said, helping Lysandra into a velvet blue gown.

Lysandra gave a little huff, her blue eyes glowing with amusement. "Clear guidance? I'm just a princess, not a mind reader."

Elise shot her a knowing look. "You may be a princess, but the court looks up to you and Prince Hunter's strategic mind. As for Prince Alan—well, Prince Alan has always been a wild card."

Lysandra's lips twitched into a small smile at the mention of her brothers. Hunter, with his golden hair and sharp green eyes, always gave the impression of being the golden child, the one everyone looked up to. His charisma was magnetic, and he never hesitated to step up when things went south. Alan, on the other hand, was wilder, more of a stunner, but no less wise. Both of them were her supporters, whether in studying politics or sneaking out of the castle at midnight. Though, sometimes they could be a bit of nuisance, but that's alright—her sword can handle them. 

Elise finished brushing Lysandra's hair, arranging it in loose waves that framed her delicate features. Lysandra gazed at herself in the mirror, taking in the image. She had always resembled her mother in appearance—her black hair cascading in gentle waves and her striking blue eyes the color of the clearest sapphires. Even her pale, porcelain-like complexion was a mirror of her mother's. Her expression, though, always felt more like her father's—poised, regal, and unyielding.

Elise added the finishing touches, draping a delicate silver chain around Lysandra's neck, adorned with a sapphire pendant that matched her charming blue eyes. "There we go," Elise said softly, stepping back to admire her work. "Perfect, as always."

Lysandra stood, smoothing down her deep blue velvet gown, rich and regal like the twilight sky. The fabric hugged her curves elegantly, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered like stars. She took a final glance at her reflection—lively blue eyes, midnight black hair, and a silver crown perched delicately atop her snowy forehead. And blew out a breath, her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction every woman feels after perfecting their appearance.