"Eh? Marry me?" asked Arabelle.
The woman beside Quentin could not hide her shock. 17-year-old Quentin was already of a mature age for marriage, but Arabelle had no idea why Quentin wanted to marry her.
"But we're both cousins," Arabelle replied.
"Many marriages between cousins happen in other houses. We're marrying just to assert authority in Helferich," Quentin stated.
The young man rose to his feet, stepping slightly forward until he was far ahead of Arabelle. Quentin's attentive eyes were still directed forward, gazing at the urban landscape outside Calden Castle.
"The leaders of the small houses would not refuse either. They think it's better for you to marry me than to accept the proposal of another man from the same house level as them," Quentin emphasized.
"I don't know if my father would agree with that," Arabelle replied.
"So you agree to marry me?" asked Quentin, moving his body to turn around, glancing back at Arabelle who still sat under a lush tree.
"I do not know."
"I think Lord Edgar will be happy with my proposal. He still wants the two of you to rule at Calden Castle," Quentin replied.
Arabelle, who had been bowing her head, began to look up, seeing Quentin who appeared to be walking closer to her until the young man was precisely standing before her, crouching down.
Arabelle's heart was pounding, occasionally swallowing her saliva deeply. Both of the woman's eyes continued to stare at Quentin intently.
"You are a lady of honor. An honorable woman only deserves to live in a grand castle, not a pigsty in the shape of a house belonging to them, the lowly houses," Quentin replied.
Quentin's right hand reached forward, lightly brushing Arabelle's cheek to give the woman's body a weird shock.
Although Quentin could manipulate minds with magic, he did not want to rush to attach the magic to Arabelle's head.
Quentin was pretty sure Arabelle was a woman who could be tricked by one thing: life's luxuries and comforts.
The young man was getting bolder in moving his head forward; there didn't seem to be any refusal from Arabelle.
Quentin's lips finally touched Arabelle's gently. They began to close their eyes and enjoy the exciting and ambitious tongue play between them.
Arabelle's thoughts began to clear after a long struggle over the proposals of the men in the lowly House in Lanercoast.
When Quentin proposes to marry Arabelle, it seems Quentin's choice is not bad.
The secluded location of the hill allowed them to freely do many things there. Arabelle undressed, as did Quentin.
The two people kept their intimacy without caring about the surroundings; the birds chirped, and the foliage began to fall even though it was few, as if protecting the two people in love during the day.
The touch of Quentin's fingers traveled over each part of Arabelle's body, creating an uncontrollable moan coming from Arabelle's mouth.
This was the first time she had felt such an incredible sensation in intercourse. She never thought the first person to take her virginity would be her own cousin, Quentin Helferich.
The grass became wet with sweat, and both of them continued to sigh softly with their eyes looking at each other intimately. Quentin smiled, his body right on top of Arabelle's.
"You're aggressive enough, Arabelle," Quentin praised.
He cupped Arabelle's smooth and beautiful neck, making her grab Quentin's hair tightly.
"I took it you agreed with my proposal."
***
A soldier rushed with quick steps into Calden Castle. The jingling of the iron armor, which moved as he walked, created a distinctive loud sound.
The soldier's right hand held a letter scroll addressed to Lord Edgar, a letter from Castlebourne.
The armored soldier continued walking up the stairs until he reached the third floor, outside Edgar's study door.
"Lord Edgar," someone called from outside his study.
Edgar, sleeping with his head resting on his desk, was suddenly awakened. He rubbed his head and told the guard to let the guest enter.
The study door opened, revealing the figure of a soldier who instantly knelt down upon seeing Edgar.
He stretched his right hand forward, handing him a scroll of a letter from a raven from Castlebourne.
"A raven has arrived from Castlebourne," the soldier stated.
Edgar's eyes narrowed. If the message came from Castlebourne, information must be delivered regarding the prince.
Without thinking, Edgar stood up from his seat and stepped closer to the soldier. He unrolled the letter by pulling it to the right, reading the message sent by Edgar's trusted informant in Castlebourne.
"Tch! They're trying to remove Prince Quentin and Princess Mary from the throne!" complained Edgar.
"Call Prince Quentin and Princess Mary to face me now!" Edgar ordered.
The soldier nodded, said goodbye, and left Edgar's study. It was not difficult to find Princess Mary, as she was in her chambers. However, the soldiers did not find Prince Quentin's whereabouts.
The sky, which was blue in color, turned orange at dusk. It was time for Quentin and Arabelle to return to Calden Castle.
They walked through the city streets, with almost the same number of people as the midday. However, what was different was the oil lamps lit to welcome the night.
Just as they arrived at Calden Castle by walking through the east gate, one of the soldiers approached Quentin hurriedly.
"Prince Quentin."
"What is it?" asked Quentin.
"Lord Edgar requests your presence in his study," the soldier replied.
Quentin glanced quietly to the side, trying to look at Arabelle, who knew nothing about it either. Both of them were pretty sure no one had seen them having an affair on the hill.
To relieve the curiosity in Quentin's heart, he and Arabelle began to step out of the front yard area of Calden Castle to reach Edgar's study.
Arriving at the third floor, Quentin opened the door without knocking. In that place, Edgar was already sitting in his chair with Mary seated in front of his desk. Marcella was nowhere to be seen in the room.
"What is it?" asked Quentin.
"Have a seat," Edgar replied, pointing to an empty chair placed before him.
With his heart pounding uncertainly, Quentin began to sit on the chair, side by side with Mary, who seemed frightened because Edgar had a serious expression.
Edgar pulled out a desk drawer, took out an unsealed letter, and handed it to Quentin.
"A raven arrived from Castlebourne. My informant gave me some surprising news," Edgar replied.
Quentin received the letter and immediately read it carefully. To his surprise, the young man read the entire letter.
"According to Castlebourne. You and Princess Mary are already dead," revealed Edgar.
"Damn Edmund! He's trying to make sure no other candidate can claim his throne," Quentin complained.
"Blue smoke can be seen coming from the castle chimney, a sign that a prince or princess is dead," Edgar retorted.
"If the whole house believes that both of you are dead, then you will find it difficult to take the throne from Edmund," revealed Edgar.
Annoyed, Quentin crumpled the letter and placed it on the table. His back leaned against the chair he was sitting in, thinking of something that could confirm both of their identities.
"It's still quite a while for us to take the throne. I have a lot of things to do," Quentin explained.
Quentin turned his head to the side, looking at his younger sister, who looked worried about what was happening. The young man remembered something that would show he was a prince.
"Did you keep the ring?" Quentin asked Mary.
"I have it in my bag," Mary replied.
"Take it and wear it. We need to keep it on to show our identity," Quentin replied.
"What ring?" asked Edgar.
Quentin showed a ring with a sapphire stone on it, a ring given by King Otto just when the Queen gave birth to a prince or princess.
It was a beautiful ring with beautiful ornaments and engravings. Quentin began to explain the meaning of the ring.
"This ring was given by the King to every prince and princess. If we keep wearing this ring, they can't ignore our identity," Quentin revealed.
"Is that so? Looks like you've got a lot of plans," countered Edgar.
"Talk about plans. I've planned something about your daughter, Arabelle." Quentin immediately stood up from his seat, stepped back, and stood fully beside Arabelle.
Edgar squinted his eyes, trying to understand what Quentin was trying to say regarding his daughter, Arabelle.
"Withdraw all proposals from the lords to Arabelle. She will marry me," Quentin declared.
Arabelle's father gasped, immediately standing up straight while both eyes widened, staring ahead, "What are you—"
"You certainly do not want to see your lovely daughter rotting in that pigsty they called home, do you?"
Edgar glanced sharply at Arabelle. The woman looked obediently silent, bowed head, "Do you agree to it?"
"His choice is better than the lords of those houses, Father," explained Arabelle.
"You need someone to keep Helferich's reign. You don't want me to marry into another house and split the power in Helferich?" asked Quentin.
"What exactly are you planning?" asked Edgar, his high-pitched voice full of annoyance.
"I'm only trying to keep the Helferich lineage pure. That's all. No lowly house should marry a fine lady like Arabelle!"