ALXINFIELD, Royal Estate, Year 079 Y.D.
"Seventh Prince," Ilayan bows.
"I'm flattered," eyeing him keenly, Rionne says. He waves his hand to signal his rise. "I didn't expect our parting would impose the modesty I've long demanded from you before. Yet, why do I suspect that your politeness is a deliberate act of estrangement?" he asks with a hint of teasing in his perfunctory, musical voice.
Ilayan lifts his head to meet the Prince smiling at him amiably.
In truth, he is surprised to see that aside from the elegant features that had now matured, he is the exact Rionne he knew. A person who rarely speaks with familiarity, unless he is ordered to, by the Emperor or by his ruthless mother, Lady Michelle. For a moment, he is not sure how to react.
Although he had tried to form a friendship with him before, he still failed. For the Seventh Prince, a seith coveted and envied for his regal beauty and royal status is a person whose heart is enclosed by layers and layers of barriers, like a fortress that no one can penetrate.
And to him, he never did smile, not even once, especially after he had married Erin.
"I'm afraid that would be inappropriate of me, Your Highness, we are not as young as we were back then."
"Indeed, the time has changed," he says, gazing at the distant splendors of sculpted fountains in forms of winged humans, the presumed heralds of deities. "Yet, it never changed your tendency to venture in this garden every time I play my flute."
"Pardon my insolence, Your Highness, it was not my intention to impose on you this time, it is a coincidence."
Rionne only responds with a gracious smile, yet now, it is with a hint of ridicule and coldness. He eyes him, slightly with pity, but more than that, there is a vivid reflection of irony.
"Well, it is a well-designed coincidence," he says.
There is no need for anyone to speak anymore, for the subtle atmosphere is better accompanied by silence, and the words that must be said, have already been told.
"Then, I'll excuse myself now, Your Highness. I should return to the hall—my troops are still there and it is time for me to bid my farewell at the guests."
"Stealthily escaping in the middle of a banquet, and now you say you'll be leaving early. Did you not enjoy the efforts of the Prince and your father? It is also his Majesty's compensation for his inhospitality."
"I would never dare to dislike His Highness intent, yet, in truth, a lavish gathering like this is unnecessary, neither his concern over my grand welcome. Not to mention that today is the feast of the diety Khie'lal, when people should be giving offerings at his temple, especially seiths like you, Your Highness."
So saying, he looks at Rionne, and his gaze is inkling with inquiries. The prince who is the eldest seith descendant of the current Emperor should be the leading figure, reciting holy scripts, at Khie'lal's temple right now, as he always did before. Yet, he is standing in front of him, playing the flute in the Royal Estate.
"I'm expecting, that at least, you have realized the real reason behind this grand pretext," he glances at Ilayan sharply. "For all your feats and brilliance at Gedeva, there are rumors that the Majesty plans to grant you the position of a Major General, and certainly, the Dukedom of Venningham is already yours. However, you are yet to marry a main consort. No house cannot be tempted to snare such dazzling personage, not even my Lady."
"Do you mean that Lady Michelle and the Fifth Prince— "Suddenly an answer comes to Ilayan's mind. But he did not dare to surmise.
Rionne sees him completely unprepared for his news. He stutters for the words to say, finally not even finishing his sentence as his brows frown. He doesn't know why but Ilayan's sharp perception at battles doesn't even translate to his keenness in intrigues and politics. But then again, he cannot expect much from someone who did not personally experience the schemes of the back house—or he thought he didn't.
"I only wanted you to know that, for once, I do not despise my Lady's idea. I see no better match for me than you, Ilayan. I also do not want to be sent away as a tool for cementing alliances at other empires and live a bitter life like the Third Princess."
"How can that be!" Ilayan has found his voice, astounded at his confession. For years he had maintained no controversial fondness for him, and he knows that Rionne feels the same. He never even imagined a possibility of them combining in a marriage, Rionne being his consort and he, becoming his husband, when the other did not even spare him a friend's affection. His mind also drifts to Erin, of who he felt guilty towards, and wonders for the reaction he would have if he is to hear that a marriage for him is being brewed.
"Rionne, do you know what marriage is?"
"And do you?" Rionne sneers. "Don't confuse my willingness to affection, General. I do not ask for your companionship as my husband, but a partnership of mutual benefit. I supposed that you are also aware of the tricks at every noble's backhouse. Sooner, you will still marry a consort, but your choice will not only affect your life but also the life of your concubine. And I assure you, my Lady will not give up from doing her plans, especially that I am willingly letting her."
"Erin should be out of this conversation," he snaps, feeling his emotions rise. For he completely understands Rionne's meaning. Although he had not personally seen the trickeries that he mentioned in their household, still, the fierce, underhand fights between the wives and concubines are a reality of every noble's backyard.
And he fears for Erin, who already suffered from his absence, to suffer the conflicts of the harem. If permitted, he doesn't desire to marry a consort anymore. But, even now, he doesn't have the power to disobey his father, and he despises himself for being powerless over the situation.
"You cannot separate from the Valquistine household as long as that concubine exists Ilayan, not until you become powerful enough to keep him safe from the Fifth Prince. He only acts restrained now because of Duke Hugo's face. But you are most knowledgeable of his vicious willfulness"
"How do you know about that?" His voice becomes deep, and the traces of shock on his face vanish into a stern expression. The events that happened to Erin four years ago are not to the knowledge of the public, for both he and the Fifth Prince buried it as if nothing happened. He, who intends for Erin to start anew, and the latter not wanting his embarrassment to become a jest in the capital.
"I have spoken enough," sensing his agitation, Rionne says calmly. "Take time to contemplate Ilayan, but don't take too much. Unlike you, my life is quite eventful at this moment." After speaking, he turns in the direction of the maple tree, the path he takes everytime he returns to his chamber.
"Please wait— " Ilayan rushes, he stands at least five paces away from him.
Rionne did not turn to face him again, yet his steps cease.
"Please tell me your genuine thoughts about this Rionne."
He casts his gaze down, not until a moment he raises his head again. If Ilayan can see, he can tell that there is no emotion in his deep purple irises, like how it was when they first meet.
In a court, where all the nobles gathered, it was a lively night, and the whole of the Alexin celebrates the coronation of the new Empress. Seated on the seventh intricately carved chair, below the velvet dais of the splendidly dressed Emperor in a fur cloak and golden trims, and his wife adorned by glistening pieces of jewelry—is a young, beautiful boy in a ruffled suit. Despite everyone indulging in merry exchanges, he remains straight on his back, as none of the happenings concern him. From time to time, noblemen in fancy doublets, ladies in satin gowns, seiths of the same purple-hued eyes like him, and even children of his age would come to greet him, and he would perfunctorily respond. Then they would praise him for being sensible and well-mannered.
"There is no need for my thoughts Ilayan, this is what I must do," he says before walking away, leaving Ilayan with so many questions in his head.
He only returned to the capital, yet he is already confronted by several problems. He doesn't know what to do, or how it can be solved. He is only certain, that although his father hints his demand for him to marry, he didn't completely agree to settle it with Lady Michelle, if not, he would not be in this banquet but in his father's study.
For a while, he remains motionless, dazing at the clouded skies, detesting himself for losing a battle even before he had the chance to fight.