The royal palace was full of people. Crowded, dozens of carriages lining up in front of the front gate. Each one was better than the last, with more and more ornaments decorating each carriage, as the line went down. Carriages, none as beautiful as the one Feyrith was in, but still interesting nonetheless.

How tacky. Feyrith thought to himself as he watched noblemen trotter out of their carriages, led into the palace by a butler or maid. Gold, gold everywhere. Gaudy accessories hanging off every nook and cranny of their body, if they had the ability to Feyrith suspected that they would place gold on some other parts of their bodies. The richer you were, the higher your position was, the more accessories you possessed.

This was a part of noble culture Feyrith always hated, he was always upset when he saw it, disgusted even. They laughed among themselves, stuck in an echo chamber of wealth and greed. He had always hated interacting with nobles for exactly this reason, his excuse for not going to the academy like every other noble child.

Two lives where he didn’t go to school. Who would’ve thought?

The royal family went all out for this celebration, one that Feyrith didn’t really recall. It was shameful; as someone who prided himself in knowing the lore of Tower of Pandora, he could not remember an event like this existing for the life of him.

His carriage lulled to a stop, the coachman stepping off and talking to a nearby butler. After this happened, the coachman returned to the carriage, and the door to Feyrith’s cabin was opened.

“Greetings, young master Feyrith. My name is Victor.” An old man wearing a neat black suit greeted him bowing upon seeing Feyrith. “I’ve been assigned to escort you this evening.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sir Victor, I’ll be in your care.” He respectfully replied.

As much as he hated acting like a noble, he needed to do the minimal to maintain appearances.

Though that got him thinking. Why did he do something as stupid as jumping out of the carriage when he could have simply asked the coachman to stop for a while? It seemed like rushing inside of the laboratory wasn’t the only bad decision he made during his stupor.

Putting those thoughts aside, Feyrith stepped out of the carriage, aweing, and gaping at the majesty that was the royal palace. When he ignored the pests that were other members of nobility, the palace truly looked like it was at its best.

Bright red banners rimmed the wall of the entrance hall, with the Royal family’s emblem embroidered on each of them. Blue crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each of them masterfully crafted. There were accents on the walls, made of a silver alloy, fainty shimmering from being hit by the sunlight.

It truly fit the image of grandeur befitting the title, royal palace.

“Please follow me, young master.” Victor spoke, interrupting Feyrith’s train of thought. He nodded, Victor walking into the main hall. Reaching the main hall, Victor bowed and allowed Feyrith to roam as he pleased, walking to a corner occupied by other butlers and maids. The main hall was a room filled with loud chatter. To Feyrith, it sounded like the scratching of a chalkboard, every second passing, the sounds screeching in his ear. Trying his best to tune out the noise, he turned his attention to the people of the main hall. Among the crowd he spotted a familiar face, surrounded by people.

“Greetings mother.” Feyrith said, approaching Sylvia. By what she said this morning, he had assumed that she would come later than him, but it seemed like timeliness wasn’t his best trait. Nevertheless, he was glad that his mother was here before him, never happier to have her presence around.

“Greetings my son.” Pausing her conversation with a group of people, Sylvia gave a reply to Feyrith. The air around her was much different than it was this morning. She gave off an aura of coldness, the epitome of the perfect noble. No longer did she have that posture of laziness and lack of care, something that always befuddled Feyrith when he saw her sudden transformation.

His mother was surrounded by an odd group of people, not exactly nobles, as indicated by their lack of excessive accessories, but instead players.

There were 3, one a young-looking man who looked to be in his 30s, sporting ruddy hair and a dignified appearance. Another, a young woman, looking about the same age as the previous man. She sported wavy blonde hair, her clothes fully white. She gave out a warm aura, filled with kindness and empathy, a kind, tender smile on her face. The last person was a large figure, a man who looked somewhere in between 10 – 60, a scruffy face and large bulging muscles peeking beneath his undersized formal wear.

“Greetings, my name is Feyrith Aridelle. Pleased to meet you.” Feyrith took first initiative to introduce himself, seeming as courteous and respectful as possible. This seemed to work as the expression of the 3 individuals lightened upon seeing Feyrith do this, their impressions of him seemingly high.

The first man introduced himself first, holding out a hand for Feyrith.

“I’m Maxwell, a player from the Goldwing guild. I’m pleased to meet you as well.” Theodore spoke with a polite smile. Feyrith took his hand and shook it, nodding all the while.

“Diana, from the church of Charity. An honour to meet you.” Diana spoke, giving Feyrith a slight bow.

“Name’s Theodore, but my friends all call me Theo. Good to meet you, kid.” Maxwell spoke, his large hands patting Feyrith on the back.

During this interaction, Feyrith surmised the basic core traits of these people, granted, that was also because he knew them as NPCs in Tower of Pandora. A habit he had obtained during his childhood, one he couldn’t shake off, even till now.

As the 3 players mingled with Sylvia and Feyrith, he could feel the envious gazes of surrounding nobles, their eyes filled with malice and hatred. They couldn’t stand the thought of non-nobles being inside of the royal palace, talking to Sylvia especially, a revered figure among nobility. Jealously maybe, most of the pests here would love a chance to talk with Feyrith’s mother and get in her good graces. What was ranking when you had the favour of someone affiliated with the literal rulers of your kingdoms?

TUTUTURU!

A loud trumpet blared, a young esquire making his to the middle of the hall.

The room went silent, the chatter halting almost entirely, all gazes pointed toward the esquire, the people’s breaths bated.

"Good evening, esteemed ladies and gentlemen. I’m sorry to interrupt the festivities, but please make way for the king and queen."

The esquire concluded his talking, standing still in the centre of the room. It was still silent, but just for a moment, as the loud stomping of footsteps slowly crawled its way in.

Thud thud thud!

A row of knights appeared, marching into the hallway. Their footsteps resounded throughout the room, echoing off the walls, the ground shaking with each step. In a moment, they split into two columns, a path made between them.

The esquire coughed, drawing the room’s attention back to him. With a steady tone, he spoke.

"It is my greatest honour to present his and her majesty Therian and Adelaide Silverveil."

As the esquire finished speaking, he walked out of the room’s centre, going over to a corner. Then two figures emerged from within the pathway of knights. Two majestic figures.

The king and queen of the Silverveil kingdom walked side by side as they entered the main hall, exuding an aura of royalty, their gaits full of poise and manner.

The king, Therian Silverveil, wore the official uniform for royal duties. A tunic embroidered with various protective engravings, and a white coat engraved with the emblem of the royal family.

His signature platinum-blond hair was well-groomed, appearing even more majestic when paired with his clothing.

Next to him, the queen, Adelaide Silverveil, wore a gorgeous red dress, a black sash hanging from her waist. Her straight black hair looked smooth and luxurious, even better groomed than Therian.

Looking at the two, nobody would believe that they were over the age of 30, despite both being well into their 50s. The same went with Sylvia, but she didn’t want others to mention that.

What stood out to Feyrith was the lack of the royal children, the many sons, and daughters of the royal family. He understood why a few of them weren’t here, some of them inside of the tower, but it was odd that those who were available, didn’t attend the event. Especially the 3^rd princess.

Therian had a large smile on his face, but Feyrith noticed that his eyes were slightly bleary, a dark sag under his eyelids. Nevertheless, he kept up appearances, grabbing a glass of white wine from a nearby butler, and raising it into the air.

“On behalf of me and Adelaide, as well as the rest of the royal family. I, Therian Silverveil, would like to thank everyone here for attending.” He announced with a boisterous laugh.

“We are honoured that so many of you would partake in this celebration of our kingdom, the nobles–and the players who so graciously accepted my invitation and used their time to attend this event." He continued.

“These are a glorious 2 days that celebrate this great kingdom, and the people who make it so great.”

“Paise be her eminence Uriel, and cheers! To Silverveil!” Raising his glass higher in the air, Therian made a toast, his voice booming through the entire hall.

“To Silverveil!”

The crowd fed off his energy, even bitter rivals shouting in harmony, cheering for Therian.

Feyrith was blown away by the king’s presence. His absolute charisma and command over the room. A ruler not only in name, Therian Silverveil truly showed the majesty of a king.

“That Therian, always making a big show out of things.” Sylvia muttered from under her breath, a faint amused smile on her face. Feyrith agreed, and what a show it was.

The crowd settling down from Therian’s speech, the king placed down his glass and walked around the hall, greeting nobles and players alike. Feyrith could see the 3 player’s gazes focused not on Therian, but instead Adelaide, an equal display of reverence on each of their eyes.

“Well then.” Sylvia suddenly spoke up, addressing the 3 players. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you three, but I must be off. We have some business to take care of.”

“Of course, it’s been a pleasure for us as well, marquis Aridelle.” Maxwell replied.

“Yes, thank you, Sylvia.” Diana joined in, saying goodbye to Sylvia as well.

“We’ll be seeing you.” Theodore said with a chuckle. He looked over his shoulder to where Adelaide was, being bombarded by a crowd of players.

Sylvia nodded and turned to Feyrith. “Now let’s go then.” She beckoned him, turning around and walking out of the main hall. Feyrith quickly bowed to the 3 players and hurried after her, afraid that if he was too slow, she would leave him behind.

---

The two walked down a few corridors, Feyrith following behind Sylvia who navigated them to their destination. Realising that he had no idea where they were going, Feyrith decided to ask.

“Speaking of which mother, where are we currently headed?”

“The royal chamber, of course.” She quickly replied.

“The royal chamber?” Feyrith repeated Sylvia’s answer, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“Of course, I told you this morning, didn’t I?” She responded sarcastically, her tone mocking Feyrith. “That we would be having an audience with the Royal family.”

This answer confused Feyrith, who had thought that his mother was referring to the festival from earlier. Then again, it was a mistake for him to assume anything when it came to Sylvia.

"I had just assumed we were only here for the celebration." He spoke to Sylvia, his tone slightly dizzied.

Little did Feyrith know, he had fallen straight into Sylvia's trap.

"Wow, completely ignoring the engagement thing huh? I wonder who raised you." She began teasing Feyrith, causing him to stop walking.

"En- engagement…" Feyrith stuttered out. This was always what ended up happening when he was left alone with his mother for too long. He was lucky that this morning she was busy, truly very lucky.

"You really hate that word…" Sylvia noted coyly, displaying a wry smile all the while.

"I thought you were only trying to tease me earlier, mother…" Feyrith retorted, his ears red.

"Tease you, I would never do such a thing to my dear son." Sylvia said with a hearty laugh, causing Feyrith to stare in disbelief. I really prefer mother when she’s not constantly trying to tease me…

"Oh, we've arrived." Sylvia spoke, stopping in front of a grand olive wood door, its details carved and indented. She turned to Feyrith, a large smile on her face.

“I forgot to tell you. We aren’t meeting with the royal family…” She paused a let out a wicked grin. She held out her hand and knocked on the door.

Knock knock.

“You are.” When Sylvia uttered those words, Feyrith felt outsmarted. His brain wasn’t functioning as he wished, simply short-circuiting when he tried to think up a retort.

“Go on then.” Sylvia opened the door and pushed Feyrith inside, the latter unable to do anything as she did this.

Bang!

The door was shut behind him, no way of escape. Mother! Feyrith cursed her in his mind, contemplating what he should do.

“Cough, cough. Ahem.”

Feyrith heard a cough come from behind him. He was so lost in his thoughts that he forgot that he was currently in the royal chambers. Holding in his breath, Feyrith turned around, making sure his face looked calm.

When he did, he saw the figure that coughed, asking for his attention. She was sitting at a small table, sat dead-centre in the chamber. She looked young, around his age. Long, straight, platinum blonde hair, and a slender face. Beautiful.

Feyrith was caught off guard by the first thought that came to his mind, his eyes admiring the girl in front of him. She almost looked like Adelaide. No, she looked exactly like Adelaide, but with the same defining features as Therian.

His mother did say that he would be meeting the royal family, not exactly the king and queen. With all her traits considered, Feyrith could only determine the person in front of him to be one person. The 3^rd princess.

Feyrith walked over to the girl, his eyes locking with hers.

She had an artificial smile on her face. Feyrith could tell as with her, she was judging him.

Out of nowhere, it was as though the image of his rival had overlapped with the girl sitting in front of him.

Suddenly, the cogs in Feyrith’s brain stopped moving, and his entire being froze.

At that very moment, the image of the girl overlapped with someone else’s. Without much thought, rhyme, or reason, he blurted out.

““YOU!””