The sun hung in the late morning sky like a jewel, casting a golden glow all over. The almost-too-perfect weather complented the grandeur of the Monster Hunt Festival's opening day.
The noble families filtered in, their elaborate attire a mosaic of colors against the lush green landscape.
The outdoor setup was a sight to behold—royal and aesthetic. Elegant marquees with billowing white drapes frad the area, their interiors adorned with opulent furnishings.
Crystal chandeliers hung from above, catching the sunlight and scattering it into a thousand little rainbows. Tables were set with the finest linens and china, while a soft symphony of classical music floated through the air, courtesy of a hidden orchestra.
The buffet-style luncheon spread out was a tantalizing display of culinary artistry, a feast for the eyes as much as for the stomach.
Vyan, the Grand Duke and lone mber of his family, stood at the entrance with his aide, a charming smile plastered on his face. He greeted each guest with a blend of elegance and nonchalance that only he could master.
"Welco, Lady Elara," Vyan said, inclining his head slightly. "I am delighted you could join us."
As Count Reginald approached, Vyan let out, "Good to see you, Lord Reginald. I hope you find today's festivities to your liking."
"Good day, Lady Henrietta. You look splendid," Vyan said, bowing slightly. "It's a pleasure to have you here."
Clyde, smiling alongside Vyan, couldn't help but comnt, "You are doing a comndable job. I was certain you would have thrown at least one tantrum by now."
"How can I start throwing tantrums on the opening day when I still have six more days of festivities left to endure?" Vyan responded, a perfect smile etched on his face.
The Monster Hunt Festival was a seven-day, five-night celebration with all arrangents made for outdoor camping. It was ant to give the nobles a taste of wild adventure, though in truth, it was far from wild, given the strict supervision and caution. Nevertheless, the goal was to let them enjoy a scenery different from their usual one, and ensuring that fell upon Vyan's shoulders.
Clyde sighed and patted Vyan's shoulder in mock consolation. "You have this, my lord," he mumbled, feigning pity.
.
"Indeed, I have—" Vyan's retort ceased abruptly as his eyes fell upon the person descending from the latest carriage.
A mischievous grin ford on Clyde's face. "Oh, who has captured your attention—" Clyde too paused once he recognized who it was.
Duke Eryndor Maverick Preaton.
Vyan's grandfather.
Vyan's smile faltered slightly. He took a deep breath and quickly restored his picture-perfect smile. As Duke Preaton drew closer, Vyan tipped his head in deference. "Your Grace, it is an honor to receive you. I trust your journey was pleasant—"
Without so much as a glance or a word, Eryndor passed by Vyan, as if he were invisible.
Clyde flinched behind Vyan, watching the duke walk past his grandson, who remained with his head bowed. "How peculiar of Duke Preaton to not acknowledge you. Do you suppose he has poor eyesight?" he let out a strained laugh.
But Vyan remained unresponsive.
"My lord…?" Clyde called out uncertainly, his eyes widening at the sight of Vyan's clenched fists, his knuckles white.
"That old man…" Vyan finally raised his head, glaring in his grandfather's direction. "I hate him."
"Now, now, perhaps it is too early to judge. Calm yourself—" Clyde attempted to soothe Vyan.
"This is not the first ti he has done this," Vyan let out, and Clyde was surprised.
"But you never ntioned anything about eting him before."
"I just didn't find it pleasant to talk about," Vyan sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation in his voice. "Did you know he didn't co to my celebratory party after my ascension?"
"I never noticed that," Clyde murmured, his eyes wide. "But seriously? Even though the emperor hosted it and ordered everybody to co?"
Vyan nodded. "It was his way of rebelling against , inheriting the title of Grand Duke."
"He is that against you?"
"Yes," Vyan continued. "And it's not just that. I have bumped into him several tis during imperial etings, but he never ets my eyes or tries to talk to . It's like I don't exist to him."
Clyde frowned. "That's… strange. But why? Do you have any idea why he acts like that with you?"
Vyan's expression darkened as he recalled a certain conversation with his aunt Celeste. "I was talking to Tia the other day. That was when I finally understood why he acts like this with . She told that my grandfather believes my parents orchestrated the attack on the emperor and released the monsters."
"What? How can he—"
"It amused to learn that he didn't lift a finger to save his eldest daughter when she was dragged to the guillotine," Vyan chuckled bitterly. "He thought Mother deserved it for bringing disgrace upon House Preaton."
Clyde's face contorted with shock and anger. "That's unbelievable!"
"Yes. So you see, I have no desire to try and nd my relationship with soone like that," Vyan shrugged.
Clyde shook his head, still processing the information. "Wow, what a jerk. If he cares so much about maintaining reputation, how can he act like that with you? Whether he likes it or not, you are still the grand duke. Or does he think he can disrespect you just because you're his grandson?"
Vyan shook his head in amusent, thanks to Clyde's rant. "You are the one who needs to calm down now. We can't let our moods be sullied because of him. We have many more guests to entertain."
Clyde took deep breaths, hoping to vanquish his anger just as easily as Vyan was able to do.
As Vyan busied himself in greeting the other guests, Clyde glanced over at the lawn, only to notice Eryndor glaring at Vyan from afar.
Narrowing his eyes, Clyde realized Eryndor wasn't glaring—he was simply watching Vyan.
"But why?" Clyde murmured to himself. "Doesn't he dislike Vyan? Or maybe not…?"
Clyde set his lips in a determined line, silently vowing to uncover the truth.
Just then, the herald announced the arrival of the imperial family, and Clyde's attention shifted, his eyes lighting up with the eagerness of an overexcited puppy catching sight of a treat.
Vyan, on the other hand, kept his usual calm deanor. He was looking forward to seeing his aunt and cousins, and of course, Althea. But he also dreaded facing the empress-consort and the first two princes.
Still, he was ready for whatever ca his way.
What he didn't expect was a surprise in the imperial lineup. The first prince had brought along his fiancée.
Easton stepped down from the carriage and extended a hand to Iyana, who accepted it gracefully. She looked stunning in a simple yet elegant dark green gown—the signature color of the imperials.
Vyan's eyes were fixed on how perfectly her gown complented Easton's attire. That was until Iyana's icy gaze t his.
In that instant, ti seed to freeze. The bustling sounds of the crowd faded into a distant murmur, and all he could focus on was the intense look in her eyes.
Almost imperceptibly, her expression began to soften. The frost in her eyes lted away, replaced by a warmth that was both familiar and heart-wrenching.
Her lips curved into a smile—a smile that he knew was ant only for him.
Vyan's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the intensity of their silent exchange. For the first ti that day, a genuine smile spread across his face.
Clyde noticed the shift and rolled his eyes so dramatically it was a wonder they didn't get stuck. He muttered under his breath, "My, what a platonic eye-contact. I am jealous," loud enough for Vyan to hear.
"Shut it, you," Vyan responded imdiately, almost as if he knew what Clyde was going to say.
Clyde put a teasing grin and was about to nudge Vyan when the next carriage arrived and Althea stepped down. He placed a hand over his heart with an awestruck smile. "She is so gorgeous."
"Yeah, but don't say that in front of her family," Vyan reminded.
"Geez, do you think I am dumb to do that?" Clyde frowned.
"Not dumb enough, but surely brave enough to pull it off," Vyan snided.
"Well, I can't deny that," Clyde conceded.
Deciding to ignore Clyde, Vyan prepared to greet the crown prince and Iyana who approached him.
"Your Imperial Highness, what a pleasure to have you and your betrothed among us. I trust the road was not too weariso?" Vyan welcod with a pleasant-looking smile, trying not to be bothered by Iyana's hand resting on Easton's elbow joint.
"The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace. The journey was smooth, thanks to your considerate preparations," Easton replied, his tone neutral.
"Excellent. Please, make yourself comfortable. The festivities are just beginning, and I look forward to your company," Vyan glanced at Iyana, "for the whole week."
"Thank you, Your Grace. Your hospitality is unmatched. I am eager to see what delights you have in store for us this entire week."
Vyan flashed his practiced smile as the group moved ahead, letting Althea approach them. His attention, however, was elsewhere.
His eyes followed Iyana, who seed entirely too comfortable by Easton's side, as if she belonged there.
"If you think they look good together, I would bet my favorite earring you two would look even better," Althea remarked, making Vyan flinch.
"You are teasing too?" Vyan asked, annoyed.
Althea chuckled. "Who else has been teasing you about this?" She felt the weight of Clyde's intense gaze and quickly added, "Oh, right, you."
"Your Imperial Highness, it has been ages since we last saw each other, hasn't it?" Clyde chirped, his voice almost too cheerful.
"Oh, yes," Althea replied, suddenly awkward. "I should head inside now. See you guys later." She hurried off, leaving Clyde with a churning feeling in his chest.
"Is she avoiding ?" Clyde questioned, a hint of desperation in his voice.
Vyan felt a pang of sympathy for his friend. "Maybe she is," he said, trying to sound casual. "I think you should give up on her—"
"What do you know? You are clueless about these things," Clyde snapped, making Vyan wince.
"Ouch. You didn't have to put it that way."
Clyde frowned, mumbling, "Whatever it is, I am going to figure out what is going on with her."
I always wondered what Clyde is like when he is sad. I guess I am going to find out soon, Vyan thought with a sigh, when his heart breaks.
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