"What? They refuse us entry?"
Guilel sat high atop her Dragon Scale Horse, her eyes narrowing into cold slits as she looked down at the trembling man. "Prince Lucia travels to Leyndell as an honored guest of Queen Marika. Are you suggesting that Caelid City, a vassal of the Golden Dynasty, intends to shut its gates in the face of Farum Azula?"
"No, no, no!" The envoy from Caelid City shuddered, bowing so low his forehead nearly touched the dirt. "I beg Your Excellence to understand. Neither I nor the city would ever dare—nor do we have the right—to offend the Prince. It's just..."
"Just what?" Guilel snapped, her patience fraying.
The man glanced nervously at the surrounding Storm Knights, then back at Guilel's frost-cold expression. He gritted his teeth. "I beg Your Excellence to allow to et Prince Lucia. I must report to His Highness and the senior officers in person."
He continued to tremble, yet remained stubborn, refusing to offer another word to anyone but the Prince himself.
"You miserable..." Guilel's hand dropped to her hilt, her draconic pressure flaring. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of an impending storm.
The sound of hooves broke the tension. Aegis rode up beside her, his expression unreadable. "His Highness has ordered that the man be brought to the center of the column."
Guilel was taken aback but didn't argue. She shot one last icy look at the official, who looked to be on the verge of a heart attack. "Stand straight. Follow ."
A mont later, at a temporary riverside camp, the official finally t the newborn demigod. Rumors of the Prince had flooded the dynasty for months, but the sight of a youth who looked barely fifteen drew a flash of genuine surprise from the man.
"Do not be startled. Ancient Dragons do not age as humans do," Lucia said, flipping a page in his book without looking up. "To be precise, I spent the last thousand years inside an egg. If you have a reasonable explanation for this insult, I suggest you offer it before my patience reaches its limit."
The man's heart skipped a beat. When those ice-blue eyes finally swept over him, he felt naked, as if every secret he held was being picked apart. He couldn't tell if it was the ntal weight of a demigod or simply the "youth's" unnatural poise, but he felt utterly outmatched.
"I, Clavell, Internal Affairs Officer of Caelid City, pay my respects to Your Highness!" He dropped to both knees and perford a full kowtow.
In the thousand-year tradition of the Lands Between, kneeling on one knee was the standard for mortals. Only the Gods, their Demigod children, and the Elden Lord were entitled to the grand gesture Clavell now offered.
"Rise," Lucia said.
Long before this journey, Lucia had morized the bureaucracy of the Golden Dynasty. He knew exactly what an "Internal Affairs Officer" was.
In remote regions like Caelid, which bordered the turbulent Mt. Gelmir and faced constant pressure from demi-human and giant tribes, the Golden Dynasty used a Regent system. A single official held absolute power over military and civil life. Internal Affairs Officers like Clavell were rely local deputies elected to handle the tedious paperwork. They held no real power; the Regent held their lives in his hands.
Clavell stood stiffly, his eyes fixed on the dirt near Lucia's boots. "Reporting to Your Highness, the decision to house the delegation outside the walls was not mine. It was a temporary order issued this morning by Regent Hectov. For the past month, rebellious demi-human tribes have been attempting to sabotage our defenses. The Regent fears that the chaos of a formal welco would provide the perfect cover for infiltrators."
"Extraordinary asures for extraordinary tis," Lucia replied, resting his chin on his hand. His voice remained as smooth as glass, giving Clavell nothing to hold onto. "Understandable."
He paused, then shifted his tone slightly. "However, does he intend for us to sleep in the dirt and depart at dawn like common vagrants?"
"I wouldn't dare!" Clavell bowed again. "I have arranged a camp for Your Highness and the envoys ten miles east of the city. We have prepared every supply you might require. I humbly ask that you move there."
Lucia didn't answer imdiately.
Even with his head bowed, Clavell could feel the Prince's gaze roaming over him, silent and scrutinizing. Cold sweat soaked the cloth at the small of his back. Every second felt like a year in that stifling silence.
"Since Sir Clavell has been so thorough, and my n are exhausted, let us proceed to this camp," Lucia finally said.
He rose, tucking his book away. A knight led over a silver-white Dragon Scale Horse. Lucia mounted with a clean, practiced motion. The horse, carrying the blood of Lesser Dragons, looked magnificent—but with the silver-haired demigod in the saddle, the sight made Clavell's resolve waver.
Guilel and Aegis followed suit, organizing the column with practiced efficiency.
As the march began, Clavell moved toward the vanguard to lead the way, but Lucia raised a hand. "Let your soldiers lead the vanguard. Sir Clavell, you shall ride with . I find myself curious about many things in Caelid."
Clavell looked up. The request wasn't a command, but looking into the youth's eyes, he realized he had no choice.
He took a shaky breath and bowed. "I obey your command."
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