Fractures and Forging : Micheal's visit
Location: Valenhart Estate
The midday sun bathed the Valenhart Estate in soft golden hues, its expansive grounds bustling with activity. News of Mikhail Valoria von Shelb's arrival rippled through the castle, electrifying the air with curiosity and excitement. The Shelb spare heir rarely ventured this far north, and his presence felt akin to the arrival of a legend. Tales of Micheal's exploits, from revolutionizing food preservation to his ethereal beauty, had elevated him to near-mythical status in the minds of the people.
The Valenhart commanders leaned in close over their drinks, their voices hushed but tinged with reverence. "They say the deities in the capital's temples were modeled after him," one said, wide-eyed. "His beauty's otherworldly. Can you even imagine?"
Another commander chuckled knowingly. "I heard the Imperial Princess wept and begged the Emperor to arrange their marriage. She'd never wanted anything so badly."
A third, swirling his drink, leaned in conspiratorially. "And the story goes, the Emperor threatened House Shelb to secure the match. The Duke himself was heartbroken, but what could he do against the Emperor's will? He had to give his precious youngest son to that cunning princess."
Ethan, seated nearby, nearly choked on his ale, coughing loudly enough to draw their attention. He fixed them with a strained smile, his tone light but tinged with irritation.
"You've all been reading too many fairy tales," he said dryly. "Micheal is perfectly happy in his marriage, and if you met the Imperial Princess, you'd know she's no spoiled shrew. And for the record, there was nobody more supportive of their union than the Duke himself."
The officers exchanged skeptical glances, but none dared to challenge him further. As their conversation shifted, Ethan's gaze fell to his cup, his thoughts churning. Why was Micheal venturing north now? Was it a mistake to inform him about Magda's presence? Or was this another one of their father's schemes? The unease gnawed at him, refusing to be ignored.
Flora, upon hearing of Micheal's impending arrival, stood at the threshold of the main hall, her emerald eyes narrowing with suspicion and barely concealed annoyance. "He's not even here yet, and it already feels like we're hosting a parade for the Emperor," she muttered.
Fredrick, standing beside her, shrugged with a resigned smile. "You can't kick him out, Flora. He's technically your brother-in-law through Magda and the Valenhart family's grandson-in-law. Whether you like it or not, he belongs here."
Micheal's convoy entered the estate grounds like a grand procession, eliciting awe and hushed whispers from the gathered crowd. His horseless carriage, adorned with the Shelb crest and trimmed with gilded edges, caught the sunlight in dazzling flashes. A line of equally resplendent carriages followed, their polished surfaces reflecting the awe-stricken faces of onlookers. Children pointed excitedly, while the gathered nobles murmured in admiration.
Flanked by both Imperial guards and Shelb retainers, Micheal's arrival brimmed with fanfare. It was a spectacle that showcased the favor of both his father and the Emperor, leaving no doubt of his elevated status.
When the main carriage came to a halt, a uniformed guard stepped forward to open the door. A hush fell over the gathered crowd as Micheal emerged, his long platinum blonde hair cascading like liquid gold, framing his sharp features. A sapphire ornament glinted in his hair, complementing his piercing blue eyes. He was dressed impeccably, his attire understated but adorned with Magda's pendant displayed prominently over his chest, a subtle yet unmistakable declaration of his bond with the Imperial Princess.
Following closely behind Micheal was Arthur, his ever-efficient assistant. Without hesitation, Arthur surveyed the scene before swiftly moving to oversee the unloading of luggage and other technicalities of the convoy, his practiced demeanor ensuring everything was managed with precision.
"He looks beautiful and handsome at the same time," a child whispered, tugging at her mother's sleeve.
Flora, watching stiffly beside Fredrick, almost stumbled at the sight. "Is he trying to outshine the Emperor?" she muttered incredulously.
Fredrick chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I think he knows someone here who might appreciate the effort," he replied, casting an understanding glance at his wife.
Flora's lips twisted in a scowl. "This bloody peacock," she grumbled, though a flicker of reluctant amusement betrayed her irritation.
-----
As Micheal greeted Flora and Fredrick with perfect poise, his demeanor was nothing short of regal.
"Duke Valenhart, Duchess Valenhart," Micheal said smoothly, bowing slightly. "Thank you for hosting me. Your hospitality rivals even the capital's grandeur."
Flora's emerald eyes narrowed slightly, her smile as sharp as a freshly honed blade. "Prince Valoria, the Duchy of Valenhart is honored by your presence. Though I must say, your arrival seems a bit... extravagant for trade negotiations. Surely a courier would have sufficed?"
Micheal's smile didn't falter, his tone warm but unyielding. "Duchess, some matters require a personal touch, especially when dealing with such esteemed company. It would be remiss of me to send someone else in my stead. Surely, you understand the importance of precision?"
Fredrick's thoughts lingered on Micheal's effortless deflection. Almost everything he does these days is for Magda, Fredrick mused, but he couldn't deny the prince's ability to maintain composure. Micheal's words seemed to glide past Flora's sarcasm with practiced ease.
"And you, Duchess," Micheal continued, his smile never wavering, "congratulations on your recent nuptials. A joyous occasion, I'm sure. Though, it was surprising to hear that neither Shelb nor the capital received invitations. An intimate affair, was it?" His tone carried the faintest edge, daring her to respond.
Flora's eyebrows lifted, her smile tightening. "Your Highness, I didn't think the capital's nobility or Shelb would find a modest northern wedding worth their time. We value practicality over spectacle here."
"A commendable approach," Micheal replied smoothly. "Simplicity, when paired with elegance, creates true beauty. The North embodies both, wouldn't you agree?"
Fredrick interjected with a chuckle, breaking the tension. "Micheal, your arrival is as grand as it is unexpected. But let's not pretend this trip is just about trade. Surely, there's more to it than that?"
Flora's smirk deepened, her arms crossing. "Modesty, Prince Valoria. Have you heard of it?"
Micheal inclined his head, his tone disarmingly calm. "Duchess, modesty is a virtue I hold dear. But even practicality deserves a little polish now and then. Don't you agree?"
Flora's eyes narrowed further, though her smirk remained. "I suppose it depends on the intent. Some polish is meant to distract, after all."
"Distraction," Micheal said, his voice softening just enough to seem earnest, "isn't always a bad thing. It can bring joy where it's most needed. Surely, that is something we can agree on?"
Fredrick observed the exchange, a mix of amusement and realization crossing his features. Micheal's refined etiquette, honed under Raphael's tutelage, left Flora's barbs unable to land with their usual precision. For the first time, Fredrick wondered if the prince consort's polished exterior hid a shrewdness the court rarely acknowledged.
-----
Meanwhile, Calista, on her way to the mage tower, spotted Micheal in the hall, his radiant presence unmistakable even at a distance. Her robes swished around her as she hurried to find Magda, a sense of urgency driving her steps.
"Your Highness," she announced breathlessly upon reaching the mage tower. "Your husband has arrived."
Magda froze mid-step, her crimson eyes widening with a mix of shock and elation. Logic fled her mind; she didn't even question how or why he was here. All she knew was that she needed to see him. The words settled over her like a warm embrace, momentarily dispelling her worries. Without hesitation, she bolted from the tower, her gown flowing behind her as she sprinted down the winding paths of the estate, her heart pounding with anticipation.
-----
Magda spotted Micheal as he walked through an open corridor with Flora and Fredrick, his platinum blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. His demeanor was calm yet commanding, as if the long journey had not touched him in the slightest.
The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through her, and before she could think, she quickened her pace, her steps turning hurried and uneven as she descended the steps too fast. Her momentum carried her forward, and before she realized it, she was practically flinging herself toward him.
Micheal turned at the sound of her hurried footsteps, his expression lighting up with surprise and fondness. With effortless strength, he caught her mid-fall, steadying her as if she weighed nothing. The act seemed almost reflexive, his movements so graceful it appeared he had anticipated her arrival.
"Magda," he said softly, his tone both amused and concerned. "You should be more careful."
Magda, breathless and overwhelmed, looked up at him. "Micheal, you're here," she murmured, her voice trembling with relief.
Flora, observing the scene, arched an eyebrow. "She probably weighs as much as air," she quipped dryly.
Fredrick gave a reluctant laugh, his gaze lingering on Micheal. "Well, it seems your hard work at appearances has paid off, Prince Shelb," he said lightly. Yet, inwardly, Fredrick's thoughts churned. How could someone with a heart condition display such strength and poise? The inconsistencies gnawed at him, raising questions about the polished image Micheal projected.
Micheal, helping Magda stand properly, flashed a mischievous grin. "Magic, perhaps," he teased, though his eyes remained on Magda, his expression softening.
"Magda," he said, his voice lowering to a private tone. "What are you doing here in the North? Surely you aren't following me?"
Magda managed a smile, the tension of the past few days easing in his presence. "Micheal von Shelb, don't play coy. What are you doing here?"
"Official business, of course," he replied, his tone playful. "Though I didn't expect to find you here. Should I be worried?"
-----
Magda followed Micheal to his assigned quarters, her steps echoing in the vast, quiet halls of the Valenhart Estate. Like Raphael, Flora had ensured that Micheal was placed in the farthest wing from Magda's own quarters. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at the transparent effort to keep them apart.
"Business, you said?" Magda asked pointedly, breaking the silence as they walked. "And yet here you are, coincidentally at the same estate as me."
Micheal's lips twitched in amusement. "Pure coincidence, I assure you," he replied smoothly. "I had no idea you would be here."
Magda narrowed her crimson eyes at him, unconvinced but unwilling to press further.
Before she could respond, a servant entered Micheal's quarters, carrying one of his suitcases. The straps were loose, and as they set it down, the contents spilled across the floor. Magda's breath hitched as an array of items tumbled out: books she had mentioned missing, lavender-scented candles she often used to relax, and a tin of her favorite tea leaves. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight.
"Micheal," she began softly, her voice laced with incredulity, "is this…?"
She crouched down, her fingers brushing against the familiar items. As she began sorting through the scattered contents, her eyes widened further. Half the luggage was filled with things for her: winter clothes she hadn't packed, more of her favorite foods, and even small trinkets she had once admired in passing.
Micheal shifted uncomfortably, his face flushing. "Barnaby's doing," he said quickly, a bit too defensively. "He packed without consulting me."
Magda's lips curved into a small smile, her chest tightening with warmth. She straightened, holding up the tin of tea leaves. "Of course, he did," she said, her tone teasing but her gaze soft.
As she stood there, holding the little reminders of her preferences and comforts, a realization settled over her. Micheal's thoughtfulness, his subtle care, and the lengths he went to ensure her happiness struck her deeply. For all his teasing and coy remarks, he cherished her in ways words could scarcely capture. Her smile grew, tinged with gratitude, as she looked back at him.
"Thank you," she said quietly, the sincerity in her voice leaving Micheal momentarily at a loss for words.
He cleared his throat, his composure quickly returning. "I told you, it was Barnaby," he insisted, though the corners of his mouth betrayed a faint smile.
Magda chuckled softly, tucking the tin under her arm. "If you say so, Micheal."