Jennifer's cheeks coloured slightly, but she managed a poised smile. "Father, please."
The conversation turned to wedding preparations, a supposedly safer topic that nonetheless carried its own pitfalls. The ceremony tomorrow would be a grand affair, bringing together the highest echelons of the society with Jennifer's more modest social circle. Every detail had been carefully negotiated between the families, from the seating arrangents to the nu.
As the evening wore on, more wine was poured, and the tensions began to ease slightly.
Stories were shared, so appropriate, others perhaps brought out by the excellent vintage being served. Pierre's childhood exploits were recounted, carefully editing out any ntions of his ti with Jaegar. They talked about how Jennifer had settled herself in the city as a well-known potionist.
Throughout it all, Jaegar observed with the keen eye of soone accustod to navigating treacherous political waters. He noted the way Watson's eyes softened when looking at his children, despite his gruff exterior.
He saw the quiet competence with which Jennifer handled herself, proving that her common birth was no asure of her worth.
He recognized in Leo a kindred spirit - soone else who had chosen a path different from what their family had expected.
As dessert was served - an elaborate construction of spun sugar and exotic fruits - Jaegar found himself drawn into conversation with Sarah, Jennifer's younger sister. Her innocent questions about life as a prince provided a welco respite from the undercurrents of tension around the table.
*
The morning of the wedding dawned crisp and clear, the winter sun casting long shadows across the grounds of the estate. The garden, normally dormant under a thick blanket of snow this ti of year, had been transford into a temperate oasis thanks to a sophisticated weather ward.
A shimring do of magical energy encased the entire area, its nearly invisible barrier holding back the winter chill and allowing guests to be comfortable in their finest attire rather than heavy furs.
Lord Watson Seifridges had spared no expense in the preparations, despite his initial reservations about the match. The garden had been transford into an enchanted wonderland. Crystalline structures that resembled delicate ice formations but emanated gentle warmth dotted the landscape, providing both decoration and comfort for the guests. Floating orbs of soft light drifted lazily through the air, their glow intensifying as the morning progressed.
As a steady stream of carriages arrived at the estate's gates, each more elaborate than the last, Jaegar found himself in his assigned quarters, adjusting the formal attire required for such an occasion. His reflection showed a figure of striking contrasts.
His wavey hair was combed back, which only enhanced his handso features. He wore a suit, which consisted of a white shirt of fine fibre, smooth trousers, and black boots. They were all prepared by Pierre, as he insisted on him wearing them.
A knock at his door revealed a servant, announcing that his presence was requested in the garden.
The guest list had been carefully curated, a diplomatic balancing act between the Pierre family's extensive social connections and the need to keep the event intimate enough to avoid turning it into a full state occasion.
About a hundred guests milled about the garden, their quiet conversations creating a gentle murmur that mixed with the soft magical music emanating from enchanted instrunts placed strategically throughout the space.
As Jaegar made his way through the crowd, he recognized faces from various spheres of society.
Church officials in their ceremonial robes chatted with military officers in dress uniforms.
rchants who had earned noble titles through wealth mingled sowhat awkwardly with those born to old blood. And scattered throughout were faces that brought him back to his days at the Academy.
One such face belonged to Parkar Fargo, who broke into a wide grin upon seeing Jaegar. "Well, if it isn't the prodigal prince himself!"
Parkar's booming voice carried the confidence of soone who had found his place in the world. Now an internationally renowned athlete, he had been their senior at the Academy and sothing of a ntor to both Jaegar and Pierre.
"Parkar," Jaegar greeted him with genuine warmth. "I heard you made it to the team. Congratulations."
Parkar's success in professional soccer had been teoric. From playing in Academy matches to becoming an international star, his journey had been followed closely by his forr schoolmates.
"Yeah man, it had been tough but I made it. That's all fine, now tell about you. Man, just what happened to you? There isn't a day I don't see photo of you in the newspapaer."
Jaegar chucled lightly, telling him its a long story.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of more familiar faces.
A group of their forr classmates approached, all now established in various positions throughout the empire.
As they fell into the easy camaraderie of old friends, Jaegar found his tension beginning to ease slightly. They swapped stories of their Academy days - the brutal training sessions, the midnight expeditions to the forbidden sections of the library, the pranks that sotis went hilariously wrong.
"Rember when Jaegar tried to enhance the growth of the flowers for the Spring Festival?" Lyra laughed. "And instead turned the entire courtyard into a jungle?"
"If I recall correctly," Jaegar defended himself with a smile, "you were the one who suggested using allaye as a fertilizer."
"Do you rember the ti when Jaegar played his first match?" Asked Parkar, to which everyone nodded. They continued to reminisce in the past academy days.
The people who were present were all close circle and well wishers, so no one raised the topic of Jaegar's arrest or what happened with him. They just talked about their academy days and their lives. There were mature enough not to talk about them. Even though his status as prince was complicated, no one treated him as such. They only saw him as a friend and treated him like one.
Jaegar felt content, seeing them; at least they weren't bombarding him with questions, he thought.
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