The carriage of House Everard rolled smoothly along the cobblestone streets, the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoing in the crisp autumn air. Inside, the atmosphere was tense with a strange mixture of frustration and a hint of awkwardness. Duke Everard sat across from his son, Nathan, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if he were trying to solve a particularly vexing riddle.
"Nathan," the Duke began, his voice low and serious, "you have to win the—"
"—princess's heart, I know," Nathan interrupted, his tone dripping with exasperation. He leaned back against the plush seat, arms crossed defiantly. "You've been repeating that for the past couple of hours, Father."
The Duke narrowed his eyes, irritated. "I wouldn't have had to if you didn't have that scowl on your face. Who would be attracted to someone who looks like they want to kill them?"
Nathan huffed, "So annoying," he mumbled under his breath, looking away.
"Nathan."
"Can't believe I have to flirt with some bastard princess," he grumbled, his voice low and filled with disdain.
The Duke leaned forward, his gaze piercing. "Do not underestimate the princess, Nathan. We need her to overthrow him."
Nathan scoffed, leaning back further into the seat. "Father, she's the last person anyone should worry about. There's no one easier to fool than a princess raised in confinement."
The Duke turned his gaze outside, his brow furrowing as he contemplated the passing scenery. "I don't think so... something doesn't feel right."
Nathan raised an eyebrow, exhaling a heavy sigh. "You're overthinking this, Father. Even if I can't win her over, someone else will, and that's still fine. There's no noble out there who doesn't want Alastor out of the throne."
For a moment, silence occupied the space. Then the Duke turned to him, appearing contemplative. "You don't get it, Nathan..." His eyes narrowed in what seemed like frustration, "Whoever has the princess, decides the future of Renara."
Meanwhile, in another carriage, the atmosphere was decidedly less tense, though no less amusing. Axel and his younger brother, Talys, sat side by side, the carriage swaying gently as it made its way to the royal palace.
Talys, staring out the carriage window with a bored expression, rested his chin on his palm. "Remind me why we're here again?"
Axel mirrored his brother's pose, his chin resting on his arm as he gazed out the opposite window. "Because otherwise Heron will snitch on us to Grandma, and we will end up spending the winter with her."
Talys turned his head slightly, still staring outside. "Right. We're just nobles being threatened by our butler to attend a 'non-compulsory' ball."
Axel shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the passing scenery. "Well, at least we'll know how the princess looks like."
Talys's hand fell down from his chin, and he turned to his brother, with a hint of disbelief. "You're curious about the princess?"
Axel turned to meet his brother's gaze. "You're not?"
"What's there to be curious about her?" He asked, his tone incredulous. "I bet she looks like some bland country bumpkin," he replied flatly, appearing unimpressed.
"Talys!" Axel exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and reprimand.
Talys smiled, turning back to the window. "Perhaps I should always irritate you. You never call me by that stinking name when you're angry."
Axel sighed, the burden of being the responsible older brother weighing heavily on him. "First of all, don't judge someone without ever meeting them—"
"So it's fine after?" Talys interjected, a teasing lilt in his voice.
"Second," Axel stressed the word, cutting off his brother, "Talysoo is a wonderful name, and I completely stand with Father on that. You were quite adorable back then."
Talys winced at the mention of his name, his face contorting. "Ugh, brother, don't you dare call me by that at the ball. I'll disown you right then and there."
Axel chuckled, shaking his head. 'What a drama queen.'
"I'm serious, brother. Don't call me by that, atleast at this ball. Is that so hard?" Talys insisted, his voice firm yet slightly desperate.
Axel leaned back against the plush seat, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced sideways at Talys. "It seems a certain someone isn't going to the ball just because the butler forced him."
Talys flinched, his gaze darting away as if he could physically escape the accusation. "Are you talking about yourself?"
"Am I?" Axel replied, his smile widening.
"... Ha, you're impossible," Talys muttered, shaking his head in exasperation.
Axel's expression shifted slightly, the teasing fading into something more serious. "Is it another business deal again?"
Talys hesitated, the lighthearted banter fading as he looked out the window, his brow furrowing. "Glade's guild master could be there."
Axel's brow furrowed in thought. 'Glade? The merchant guild?' He studied his brother in silence for a moment before shaking his head. "Aren't you a bit too young for that look, little brother?" he asked, a hint of both concern and teasing creeping into his voice.
"I don't like talking with them either," Talys replied, his tone defensive.
"But?" Axel pressed, sensing the underlying tension.
Talys sighed, the weight of the world seemingly resting on his young shoulders. "We're not exactly doing well, so what else can I do?"
Axel narrowed his eyes, his expression shifting to one of concern. "You don't have to worry about it—"
"I want to," Talys interrupted, his voice rising slightly. "I want to worry about it. Why can't I?"
Axel fell silent, Talys's eyes narrowed, sadness creeping into his expression as he turned back to the window, the scenery outside blurring into a wash of colors. "You and Father always treat me like a kid... Though now it's only you, but..." He sighed again, resigned. "I was one step away from becoming a spoiled brat."
Axel stayed silent for a moment, contemplating his brother's words. Then, with a gentle pat on Talys's head, he broke the tension.
"I just told you not to—" Talys protested, but he didn't swat Axel's hand away, a small victory for the older brother.
"I bet you'll still be a kid to me even when you turn 60," Axel teased, his tone lightening.
Talys glared at him for a moment, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curling into a reluctant smile. "Impossible. Impossible, really."