Meeting the Crown Prince

As the evening progressed, the atmosphere in the grand banquet hall grew even more vibrant.

Laughter mingled with the strains of music, and the glow of chandeliers played across gleaming marble floors. Whenever the doors to side corridors opened, a faint chill from the winter wind outside seeped in, a reminder that the season had turned cold despite the warm festivities indoors.

Delphia observed it all from a small alcove upstairs, a serene smile gracing her lips. The events of the night had unfolded in unexpected ways, and she felt a sense of cautious optimism about the path ahead.

Her solitude was soon interrupted by the arrival of a servant, who bowed low as he offered a neatly folded note sealed with the royal crest. "A message for you, Lady Vosswell," he said formally. Delphia arched an eyebrow but took the note without comment. As she unfolded it, she read:

Lady Delphia,

It would be my honor if you would join me for a stroll in the East Garden.

—Crown Prince

She suppressed a sigh.

Alaric, it seemed, had finally decided to make his move. She understood the letter's mention of the 'East Garden' was more of a courtesy—given the wintry weather, she suspected he had arranged a private indoor location for them to speak, rather than any actual garden stroll. Ignoring a direct invitation from the Crown Prince could be seen as a grave slight, so she resigned herself to face him and see what this was about.

Resolving to handle the encounter with grace, she rose from her seat and descended the staircase, crossing the bustling hall. A second servant discreetly guided her away from the main festivities toward a more secluded wing of the estate. Softly lit sconces lined the corridor, their flickering light reflecting in the polished wood paneling.

At the end of the passage, a set of ornate double doors stood ajar. A royal guard stationed nearby bowed as Delphia approached, gesturing her inside. Stepping through, Delphia found herself in a tastefully furnished parlor—rich carpets underfoot and a gently crackling fireplace offsetting the winter chill. A few lavish chairs and a low table sat arranged near a set of tall windows, the draperies drawn to keep out drafts.

There, by the window looking out a small gap, she saw Alaric. Dressed in a deep blue jacket embroidered with gold, he cut an imposing figure. His golden hair caught the firelight, and his sea blue eyes held a contemplative gaze as he turned at her approach. "Your Highness," Delphia greeted him with a respectful curtsey. "You wished to see me?" He turned to her, a charming smile slipping easily onto his features. "Lady Delphia, thank you for joining me."

"The pleasure is mine," she replied politely. He gestured toward an unoccupied corner of the parlor where a few seats were set up. "Would you care to talk with me?"

"Of course." She agreed, falling into step beside him. They strolled slowly across the length of the parlor, the muffled sound of the banquet continuing somewhere beyond the doors. The faint warmth from the fireplace and the quiet crackle of burning wood replaced what might otherwise have been a frosty outdoor walk in a garden.

For a few moments, they moved in slow silence, soft lamplight reflecting off the polished floors. Delphia waited patiently, sensing that Alaric was searching for the right words. "I must admit," he began, "you've been rather elusive this evening."

She glanced at him calmly. "Have I? That was not my intention." He gave a soft chuckle. "Usually, I find you at the center of every gathering, but tonight you seem content to observe from afar."

"There's much to be gained from observation," she responded smoothly. "One can learn a great deal in life by simply listening."

"Perhaps," he conceded. "But I had hoped to share a dance with you." He switched topics easily. Okay, there is no way these two shared a dance at this party. In fact, in the novel, Delphia had asked and was immediately rejected. He then danced with Calista right after. That was the start of her hatred for Calista. Don't lie to my face!

"Ah," she said softly. "I apologize if I missed the opportunity. The evening has been quite eventful."

"Yes, I noticed you shared a dance with Archmage Thorne," he remarked, a hint of surprise in his tone.

"Is that really shocking?" She asked calmly, meeting his gaze.

"Only, in that, I've rarely seen the two of you in such close company," he said. "I wasn't aware you were entirely familiar."

"Well he is my betrothed," she replied nonchalantly. "Tonight seemed as good a time as any to become better acquainted in public." He's a Prince, and he doesn't know the big engagements of the Prominent families? Man, he really didn't care about Delphia in the slightest.

He nodded slowly. "I see. Still, I had hoped to spend some time catching up with you."

They finally reached the seating, and Alaric gestured for her to sit first. Delphia nodded her head and took a seat. She offered a polite smile. "I'm here now. What would you like to discuss?"

He seemed momentarily taken aback by her directness. "Well, I was curious about how you've been faring. It's been some time since we last spoke at length, and I've heard the rumors circulating." He responded and took a seat opposite her so that he could maintain eye contact.

"I'm well, currently, some time has passed since my accident and I feel much better than I did." She said simply. "And yourself?"

"Busy with affairs of state," he said with a practiced sigh. "But I always make time for important friendships."

"Friendships are indeed valuable," she agreed.

Alaric studied her for a moment. "You seem... different… tonight."

"Oh," She asked with a placid smile on her face. "In what way?"

"I can't quite put my finger on it," he admitted. "There's a distance, perhaps? A change in your demeanor."

"People change, Your Highness," she said. "It's the one constant factor in life."

"True," he said thoughtfully. "But I hope this 'change' doesn't mean we're drifting apart." She tilted her head slightly, "Our paths cross as they will. I've no intention of creating distance where none is needed."

"That's reassuring," Alaric said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I value our connection."

"As do I," she replied diplomatically. Bullshit. You just want the connection to the Duke.

They lapsed into silence momentarily. Alaric seemed to be looking for a way to broach a subject without coming out directly. "Tell me," he began, "what are your thoughts on Lady Faremont?"

"She seems pleasant," Delphia said. "Adjusting well to her new circumstances."

"Yes, it's quite the story, isn't it?" He mused. "A lost daughter returned to Nobility."

"It is," she agreed. "Life has a way of surprising us."

He glanced at her. "I was thinking that perhaps you might help her acclimate. You have a wealth of experience in these circles."

She considered his words. "Are you asking me to mentor her?"

"Not formally," he said quickly. "But any guidance you could offer would be beneficial."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said neutrally, with a polite smile. He seemed dissatisfied with her response. "It would mean a great deal to me."

"Your interest in her well-being is commendable," she observed. He paused a moment, looking startled by her astute comment. "She is a remarkable young woman," he said. "Her perspective is... refreshing."

"I'm sure she appreciates your support," Delphia said.

Alaric paused, sitting upright in his chair, eyebrows slightly furrowed at her words. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me, Delphia?"

She met his gaze evenly, "Such as?" She questioned lightly.

He hesitated before speaking, "I can't help but feel there's a barrier between us tonight. If I've done something to offend you—"

"You've done nothing to offend me," she assured him. "I apologize if I've given Your Highness that impression." I just want nothing to do with you, she thought to herself.

"Then perhaps we could share that dance after all," he suggested, a hopeful note in his voice. She offered a gentle smile. "Another time, perhaps. The hour grows late, and I myself am feeling quite tired." He hesitated, clearly searching her expression; Gaze lingering, as if looking for some trace of the old Delphia. "Very well." Masking his disappointment, he said, "but I look forward to it."

"As you wish," she replied.

He leaned in closer. "Delphia, our families have always been close. I hope that bond remains strong." Hey, there it is! Feeling antsy huh, buddy?

"I'm certain it will," she said. "Our alliances are important."

"Indeed," he said, his eyes searching hers. "If there's ever anything you wish to discuss, you know you can come to me."

"Of course," she said with a slight bow of her head. "Thank you, Your Highness." Why is he spewing such nonsense out his ass right now? He has never once shown as much interest as he's showing now in Delphia's entire life of knowing him. If this was the old Delphia talking to him right now, she would be over the moon.

He seemed to accept that the conversation was at an end. Offering his arm as he rose, he said, "Allow me to escort you back to the festivities." She placed her hand lightly on his arm—ready to remove it at an instant—and stood up as well. "Thank you, Your Highness."

As they walked out of the parlor and back toward the main banquet hall, Alaric maintained a composed exterior, but Delphia could sense the undercurrents of frustration. He was clearly unaccustomed to being kept at a distance, especially by someone who had previously fought for his attention. Re-entering the throng of nobility and music, they paused at the edge of the crowd.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening," she said with a courteous nod.

"You as well," he replied. "Until we meet again."

"Until then," she echoed.

As he departed, Delphia released a quiet breath. Navigating that conversation had required careful balance. Alaric's ego was indeed substantial, and she needed to manage their interactions thoughtfully to avoid unnecessary complications.

"That looked... intense," came a familiar voice. She turned to find Zypher observing her with a hint of amusement. "Eavesdropping, Lord Thorne?"

"Merely passing by," he said innocently. "Your conversation with the Crown Prince seemed... engaging."

"Engaging is one word for it," she replied dryly with a slight roll of her eyes.

"He's not accustomed to being turned down," Zypher noted.

"I'm quite aware," she said. "But there's a first time for everything."

Zypher raised an eyebrow. "You're full of surprises tonight."

"So I've been told," she said offhandedly.

He stepped closer, "May I offer a piece of unsolicited advice?" She regarded him cautiously. "Will it matter if I decline?" He smiled, shaking his head slightly. "Probably not."

"Then by all means," she said with a faint smirk. "Be careful with the Crown Prince," Zypher said, his tone shifting to a more serious note. "He doesn't handle rejection well."

She regarded him a moment. This is way too strange… it's almost like he's… worried about me. She smiled easily, "I can handle the Crown Prince."

"I don't doubt your capabilities," he said, agreeing with her. "But underestimating him would be unwise."

"Noted," she said. "But I assure you, I have no intention of provoking him unnecessarily."

"Very prudent," he acknowledged. "Just remember that in this court, appearances can be as important as reality."

She gave a small nod. "I appreciate your concern."

"Think nothing of it," he said lightly. "After all, it's in my interest to ensure my fiancée remains untroubled." In his mind alone, Zypher realized he was gradually testing some limits Delphia had set when they initially met all those years ago. He was puzzled as to why she wasn't recognizing this herself.

"Is that so?" Delphia asked, a hint of a teasing lilt in her voice. "Absolutely," he replied without hesitation. "I have a reputation to maintain."

She chuckled softly. "We wouldn't want to tarnish that."

"Indeed," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must attend to some matters. But perhaps we'll have another opportunity to talk soon."

"I'll look forward to it," she said. As Zypher walked away, Delphia reflected on his words. The subtle warning about Alaric was not lost on her. Navigating the intricacies of court politics required vigilance, especially when dealing with someone unaccustomed to denial.

Deciding she had fulfilled her social obligations for the evening, she made her way across the hall toward the exit leading to the estate's main corridors, retrieving her shawl from the coatcheck. Servants bustled about, and muted conversation blended with distant music from the continuing festivities. By the time she reached the waiting carriage outside, the cold winter air nipped at her skin.

Descending the steps and pulling the shawl tighter, she couldn't help but feel that the night had set several new threads into motion. Allies and adversaries alike were taking notice of her changes, and she would need to navigate the path ahead with care.