Dylan scanned his surroundings, when suddenly, he overheard a heated argument. The voices were unmistakable—Lyra's fiery tone and Hubris's calm, almost mocking response. He followed the sound, making his way to a corridor he had only just reached. There, on the stairs, Lyra stood facing Hubris, his back to her as they exchanged words.
"Clear it up, right now or else!" Lyra's voice seethed with anger.
Hubris shrugged nonchalantly. "Clear what up? It's all true, isn't it? I could bring in a painter to capture the image of you, since I remember your body so vividly."
Lyra's hands clenched into fists, her knuckles white with rage. She shook with fury, but it wasn't just her. As she looked up, ready to lash out at Hubris, she saw Dylan and Xavier approaching from behind him.
'Oh no... he heard everything, didn't he? What will he think of me now?'
Lyra's eyes, already red from anger, filled with the threat of tears. The thought of Dylan hearing the malicious rumors circulating about her made her want to disappear. She muttered under her breath, "…You're sick," before turning and running away.
Dylan's glare turned murderous, his eyes burning with fury. It seemed as though he might strike Hubris right then and there. But Xavier, sensing the escalation, intervened.
"There's no point in confronting him. Instead, I suggest you go check on Princess Lyra."
The mention of Lyra's name calmed Dylan's anger. He pushed past Hubris without a word, heading in the direction Lyra had gone.
Hubris, seemingly oblivious, called out, "Your Highness, are you ready to leave? Wait... where are you going?"
"It seems His Highness will not be accompanying you today," Xavier replied coolly.
Hubris continued his complaints, "How can this be? You can't cancel at the last minute. All preparations have been made. This is highly disrespectful! Is this how the distinguished guests from Helios treat their hosts?"
Dylan, ignoring him, returned with a grim expression. "There you are, Your Highness. Ready to leave?"
Dylan nodded, and Hubris, none the wiser, escorted them to the carriages.
After a brief tour of the city, they arrived at the main marketplace—the very place Dylan and Xavier had visited on their first day. As they observed the surroundings, Hubris excused himself, leaving Dylan and Xavier alone.
Taking advantage of the moment, Xavier leaned in and asked quietly, "What about Princess Lyra?"
"I couldn't find her... But I plan to track down where these rumors are coming from. I would love to silence that man's filthy mouth once and for all. However, I know my position is delicate. Any violent action on my part could jeopardize the peace treaty between our kingdoms."
Xavier nodded solemnly. "I will support you, as always."
But much to their surprise, Hubris went off to a gambling bar, leaving a lone attendant with them, whom they quickly ditched. They wandered the streets, overhearing more damaging gossip about Lyra.
The more they heard, the more Dylan's blood boiled. The rumors painted Lyra in an atrocious light, and every word made him want to tear Hubris apart. No, the idea of ending his life seemed too easy. Dylan imagined making Hubris beg for death.
"Did you hear? The Crown Princess is shameless!"
"She doesn't wear clothes!"
"She likes to show off her body!"
"How vulgar!"
"I even heard she slept with Sir Hubris."
"Are they not related by blood? That's disgusting!"
"She's a slut!"
"I heard she sleeps with one of the knights every night, changing men as she pleases!"
The vile rumors churned in Dylan's mind. But even amidst the venomous gossip, there were whispers of disbelief and loyalty.
"I don't believe it," someone muttered.
"I know the Princess isn't like that."
"Who could call our pure Princess a slut?"
"She's the epitome of innocence!"
"These rumors are baseless."
"I'd gladly execute whoever's spreading these lies about our dear Princess."
"Oh, how our Princess must suffer from these falsehoods. I wish I could console her."
The murmur of support only deepened Dylan's anger towards Hubris. He felt a surge of satisfaction when he overheard a group of women discussing him.
"Hubris, he's the one behind this. Always been disgusting and sick!"
"Let's hope he gets crushed by a rock!"
Dylan nodded grimly at the last comment. Just then, a familiar voice called out to him.
"Isn't it you two? I didn't expect to see you here."
It was the bar owner from their first day in the city. He recognized them immediately and approached with a grin.
"Yes, we decided to stay," Xavier replied, a slight edge to his voice.
"Good to hear!" The man beamed. "Do visit my bar often. I'll give you a special discount."
"Thank you," Dylan replied, still brooding over the rumors.
"By the way," the man added, lowering his voice, "don't pay attention to what you've been hearing. It's just nonsense spread by some bastard."
Dylan raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Absolutely. Our lovely Princess isn't like that at all."
The bar owner's smug tone caught Dylan's attention. He narrowed his eyes and asked, "You said you haven't seen her in years. How do you know so much about her?"
The man faltered for a moment, then blurted, "She's the madam I told you about."
Dylan and Xavier exchanged puzzled glances. The man quickly realized his mistake.
"Uh... I mean..."
"What do you mean the madam is the Princess?" Xavier pressed.
The man sighed and gestured for them to come closer. He lowered his voice, casting a cautious glance around. "You two are living here now, so I suppose I should tell you. But you must keep this secret. If the public finds out, they'll kill you. I'm serious."
"What?" Dylan asked, now thoroughly intrigued.
"Years ago, Princess Lyra and Princess Astrid used to leave the palace often. But after a while, we heard nothing. Then a woman, who looked exactly like Princess Lyra, started donating a lot. She set up schools, libraries, even gave free food to the poor. She pretended not to be Princess Lyra, but we all knew it was her. For her privacy, we all agreed to act as if we didn't know."
Xavier raised an eyebrow. "So, the public knows Belle is Princess Lyra, but she doesn't know that we know?"
"That's right!" the man confirmed. "That's why we cherish her so much. We watched her grow up, and even though she's the Crown Princess, she still takes care of the knights who follow her secretly. They tell us how she feeds them and looks after them."
"Princess Lyra doesn't know the knights follow her?" Dylan asked, now even more puzzled.
"No, she's too pure for this world," the bar owner said with a smile.
Dylan couldn't help but smile too. 'Look at that, Lyra. The public doesn't know your secret, but they cherish you deeply. If only you knew...'
The bar owner then turned to ask them more about their background, to which they gave half-truths. He apologized for being so forward, and the two assured him it was fine. Finally, they asked him to show them around the city.
As the sun began to set, the attendant, who had been ignored earlier, found Dylan and Xavier and instructed them to follow him, as Hubris had requested. He led them to one of the townhouses, which seemed like private property. Dylan and Xavier noticed drunken men and women coming and going, with some smoking outside.
The estate, although appearing normal, was clearly not. The people entering and exiting were visibly intoxicated. The women wore revealing outfits, and the men were disheveled. Loud laughter echoed from inside, and the smell of liquor was noticeable even before they stepped inside.
"I don't go into brothels," Dylan said firmly.
The attendant, looking slightly embarrassed, responded meekly, "Oh no, your highness. This isn't a brothel. This is Sir Hubris's private property. He's hosting a gathering here. All of the guests are his personal invitees. Sir Hubris is expecting you inside."
Once inside, they were greeted by a huge bar and a scene resembling a night entertainment club. Groups played poker, others flirted, and some smoked. Everywhere, people drank heavily. The air was thick with the stench of alcohol, sweat, and excessive perfume, making it nearly unbearable.
They were escorted upstairs to a private room where the atmosphere was even worse. Smoke filled the space, and Hubris was sitting with a few girls and some noble-looking men. Dylan and Xavier, taking in their surroundings, were approached by two or three women, who began to stroke them, asking if they wanted some company. Xavier, not accustomed to this, flinched and turned to Dylan for help.
"Your highness… help me!" he whispered in distress.
Dylan, unimpressed, glared at the women and spoke in a low, authoritative tone, "Get lost."
The women flinched and quickly backed off. One of them rolled her eyes and muttered, "If you two are together, you should have gone to a gay bar."
Both Dylan and Xavier snapped at the remark, but before they could respond, Hubris spotted them. With a glass of alcohol in hand, he smiled and greeted them.
"Welcome~" he said, his voice slurred from intoxication.
Dylan scrunched his nose at the overpowering smell of alcohol, noting how Hubris was already drunk, despite the night just beginning.
"What is this?" Dylan asked.
"This is my party. We have these often, and I thought you'd enjoy it. But come on, don't be like that. I'm sure you're used to more extravagant parties, being a prince and all."
"I do not enjoy such events," Dylan replied coldly.
Hubris waved off the comment, "Don't be like that. Just sit and enjoy. Have a drink or two."
Dylan sniffed the glass, which reeked of strong alcohol, but said nothing. He could hear a distant conversation from some of the guests.
"Are the rumors about you and that princess true?"
Hubris grinned, clearly drunk, "Needless to say, it is!"
Dylan overheard more taunting remarks about the princess's appearance, and his patience began to fray. He drank another glass, still listening.
"You're such a liar. I doubt you could land a girl like that."
Dylan's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, nursing his drink.
"She's not even that attractive," someone added, "Her face is fine, but her body..."
Dylan, feeling the heat from the alcohol and the stuffy room, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled up his sleeves, and ruffled his hair, clearly agitated. He overheard more degrading talk about the princess, which made his anger boil.
"Don't blame Hubris," one voice said. "She's head over heels for him, so he's got to give her some attention."
"I know better than to have low standards," Hubris chimed in, smugly.
Dylan, unable to tolerate the insults anymore, slammed the glass down. His fists clenched as the conversation about the princess continued.
"Hey, tell me," another guest asked, "Is she really good in bed?"
Before Hubris could respond, a punch landed, and he fell to the ground. The room went silent as everyone turned to see Dylan, whose grim expression was now replaced with a sly smile.
"Oops," Dylan said, feigning innocence. "I guess the alcohol made me tipsy. My bad."
Lyra, who was on the balcony, repeatedly struck her forehead in embarrassment. The view before her showed the ocean waves crashing against the shore, and despite the high walls of the palace, she could still hear the calming sounds of the waves. The sound comforted her anxious heart as she contemplated her feelings of outrage and shame. She knew that, as usual, no one would listen to her. She thought about confiding in her father, but didn't want to worry him.
Sighing deeply, she was about to go back inside when she heard someone call her name. Looking around, she saw no one but then spotted Dylan standing below, smiling brightly.
"What's he doing here at this time of night? And what's with his appearance?" Lyra wondered.
She rushed downstairs to him. Standing at the top of the steps, she called out, "Dylan?"
He smiled and took two steps up, standing closer to her. "You finally addressed me by my name," he said.
Lyra, confused, asked, "What's wrong? Why are you here at this time? What's with your appearance?"
"Oh, don't mind me," Dylan replied casually.
Though he wasn't completely drunk, Dylan was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. He moved closer, gently caressing Lyra's cheek. "Are you alright?"
Lyra, puzzled, replied, "Absolutely. Why?"
Dylan could tell she was referring to the rumors, so he reassured her, "No, I didn't hear everything."
"Don't lie," she said, lowering her gaze.
"If I said I did, would you have something to say? I know you have something to say. Just tell me, I'll listen. As long as you want," Dylan said, his voice soft yet sincere.
Lyra felt something stir inside her, and tears started to well up in her eyes as she whispered, "It's not true... it's not true... I'm not like that... it was him... all him..."
Dylan pulled her into a gentle hug, caressing her hair as he whispered softly, "I know."
Lyra's frustration and anger boiled over as she exclaimed, "I hate the rumors. They're disgusting. He is disgusting. For so many years, he's ogled me with those disgusting eyes. It creeps me out. I can't stand him. I detest him so much. Looking at him makes me want to puke."
Dylan, holding her close, responded calmly, "Is that so? Then you should praise me."
He pulled back slightly, their faces now inches apart. Lyra's hands rested on his chest, her breath hitching in her throat. "What?" she asked, confused.
"He's at the clinic right now," Dylan said, a small grin tugging at his lips.
"What are you talking about?" Lyra asked, confused.
"Oh, nothing. You'll find out tomorrow," Dylan teased.
Lyra noticed the faint smell of alcohol on him and asked, "Are you drunk?"
"Not really. Well, maybe just a little," Dylan admitted.
"Dylan!" she scolded, trying to pull away from his embrace, but he refused to let go.
"First, praise me. Tell me I did a good job," he urged.
Lyra muttered, "I don't even understand what you did."
She observed him—his clothes slightly messy, his hair disheveled, and his ears flushed. Even though he seemed tipsy, Lyra felt strangely heated by the closeness, her awareness of the moment growing stronger.
Before she realized it, she ran her fingers through his hair and said, "Good job?"
"Mhm," Dylan hummed.
He placed his head on her shoulder, but after a moment, he lifted it again to face her. Their gazes locked as their faces inched closer. She could feel the warmth of his breath, and their lips were almost touching when a voice interrupted.
"Your highness! There you are!"
Lyra, embarrassed, nudged Dylan away. He blinked and ran a hand through his hair, his expression turning sheepish. Xavier, sensing the charged atmosphere, awkwardly bowed to Lyra before approaching Dylan.
"You're drunk, aren't you?" Xavier asked.
"I told you no. My alcohol tolerance is high," Dylan replied, clearly in a playful mood.
"Then why are you here?" Xavier pressed.
"I wanted to see her," Dylan said with a grin.
"So you came to tell her about how you beat up Hubris?" Xavier asked, teasing him.
Lyra, wide-eyed, turned to Dylan. "You did what?"
Dylan shot Xavier a glare, but Xavier quickly clarified, "It seems his highness isn't too drunk. Apologies for intruding at this hour. Prince Dylan, it's time to return to your room."
Dylan rolled his eyes and whispered in Lyra's ear, "Good night."
As Dylan left with Xavier, Lyra stood there, still in shock over what had just happened. The wind blew strongly, and she felt feverish, the lingering warmth of Dylan's embrace and scent still affecting her. She flushed as she thought, Was he really not drunk?