A few hours later, just as the sun began to dip below the distant ridges that frad the capital of Valerion, bathing the skies in deep golden hues and casting long shadows over the towering spires and intricate rooftops, the royal carriage bearing Lucas finally crossed the threshold of the outer palace gates. The guards standing watch, adorned in their signature crimson and black armor, snapped to attention the mont they spotted the carriage. Whispers followed its progress down the paved roads leading toward the inner sanctum of the palace, the clatter of hooves muffled by the velvet evening light and the quiet reverence in the air.
The mont the carriage ca to a halt and the door opened, Lira surged forward from the waiting line of retainers, unable to contain the joy that had clearly been building inside her since morning. Her eyes shimred with relief and unspoken excitent, her features practically glowing with happiness as she reached for him without hesitation.
"Master Xavier!" she breathed, just before he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
She froze in that mont, eyes wide, cheeks burning with color, before a delighted laugh spilled from her lips and she clutched his arm as if he might vanish again. "You’re back. Finally. I’ve missed you terribly. You don’t even understand what it’s been like since word reached the capital. Everyone is talking about you. Everyone."
Lucas allowed her to hold on for a while, smiling faintly at her enthusiasm. She didn’t pause to breathe as she continued speaking, her words tumbling over each other in a stream of bubbling excitent.
As they began walking toward the inner palace, Lira stayed close to him, recounting how even the elders had begun to whisper his na with a mix of awe and reverence. "It’s like you’re a whole new person. I an, they used to respect you, sure, but now? They’re borderline terrified of your prowess."
Lucas listened quietly, absorbing her words even as his thoughts wandered. The palace looked as grand as ever, though it sohow felt different this ti, as though he were stepping into it not as a guest, but as soone who had begun to carve his na into its history.
By the ti they entered the grand banquet hall, a feast was already in full swing. Music floated through the vaulted chamber, rising and falling with the hum of conversation and laughter. The scent of roasted ats, spiced wines, and honeyed fruits filled the air, and the long tables glittered with fine crystal and silver. Courtiers and nobles were dressed in their finest robes, their eyes turning toward Lucas as he stepped into view, so smiling with approval, others watching him with quiet calculation.
At the far end of the hall stood The King himself, regal and commanding in his ceremonial robes, raising a goblet in welco as Lucas approached. His voice bood with pride, his words echoing through the hall.
"Let it be known," the king announced, "that Xavier Alden has brought great honor to our Valerion. As of this day forward, he shall bear the title of Royal Alchemist, a title bestowed only upon those whose wisdom and ability in alchemy transcend ordinary asure."
A round of applause followed, and many in the room stood to raise their cups in tribute. Lucas bowed with grace, acknowledging the honor while keeping his expression calm, even as he caught sight of his parents nearby. Elder Gideon Alden and Lady Mariana stood side by side, the pride on their faces unmissable. His father’s normally stern features were softened with satisfaction, while his mother looked as though she were holding back tears of joy.
A few monts later, Henrietta appeared, slipping between courtiers and lords to find her way to Lucas. Dressed in a deep green gown that brought out the gold in her eyes, she gave him a sly smile.
"You’ve outdone yourself," she murmured warmly, her voice low and teasing. "I can’t say I’m surprised, though. I always knew you were destined for sothing greater."
Lucas responded with a chuckle, nodding in acknowledgnt as they exchanged a few quiet words. It felt good to be back, and though his heart was heavy with the burden of what still lay ahead, this mont was sothing he allowed himself to enjoy, if only briefly.
Then his gaze shifted across the hall, and his eyes found Selene.
She stood near one of the side columns, a glass of wine untouched in her hand, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp. She was dressed in soft violet, her hair flowing freely over her shoulders, but there was sothing guarded in her expression as she watched him from a distance. It didn’t take long for her gaze to fall on Lira, who still stood by Lucas’s side, smiling and engaging those who ca to offer congratulations.
Selene’s jaw tightened ever so slightly.
She tried to mask it, but it was clear she was not pleased. She hadn’t expected Lucas to return like this, distant, unreadable, and offering her barely a glance. The warmth he had once reserved for her seed to have cooled. Though she joined the feast and accepted the praise being showered upon him like everyone else, sothing inside her quietly churned.
Lucas, though aware of her presence, made no effort to cross the hall or greet her.
Even Prince Darius, dressed in his finest ceremonial robes and bearing a rare expression of genuine humility, had approached Lucas with a congratulatory smile. His voice, although composed, carried a sincere tone that Lucas had not heard from him in a long ti. The Crown Prince extended his hand and spoke graciously, thanking Lucas for his contributions to the realm through alchemy. That mont, brief though it was, signified a shift in their relationship, a recognition that the boy once mocked and overlooked had now risen to beco soone whose talents could not be denied.
But among the many faces who gathered at the banquet that evening, none stirred more unease in Lucas than that of Marquess Scott.
The man carried himself with the sa quiet arrogance and commanding presence he always had. He offered polite words to Lucas, praising his astonishing growth and calling him a valuable asset to the Kingdom of Valerion. Lucas smiled in return, bowing ever so slightly in acknowledgnt, his expression composed and gracious, but behind that carefully maintained mask, his heart remained guarded and cold.
He exchanged formalities, accepted the praise, and nodded to the complints, all while the storm of truth and rage remained buried just beneath the surface of his calm expression.
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