Liam returned to the banquet hall, but his thoughts were still on the letter. What was it — an invitation, a request, an expectation?
Still, he carried himself with composure. As nobles approached him with pleasantries and thinly veiled intentions, he responded with the same polite grace.
As the banquet continued, Liam found himself subtly cornered by a small group of noble families. Among them was Countess Evelyne Rosmond, a woman of sharp poise and keen political instincts. She stood beside her daughter, a girl no older than ten, dressed in a gown of deep lavender.
"Prince Liam," Countess Caresaa greeted with a graceful smile. "What a pleasure it is to see you attending the Eve. My daughter, Lady Celina, has long admired your presence at court but never had the chance to introduce herself properly."
The young girl hesitated, clearly flustered, before offering a small curtsy. "I-It's an honor, Prince Liam," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Liam smiled politely. "The honor is mine, Lady Celina. I trust you're enjoying the evening?"
"Yes! Very much so," she replied quickly, glancing toward her mother as if seeking approval.
Before the silence could settle, another noble interjected. Duke Reynard Langston, a man well past his prime but still sharp in wit, gently nudged his daughter, Lady Vivienne, forward. She was older than Celina, perhaps twelve, with golden curls that framed her face elegantly.
"Prince Liam, I must say, my daughter has taken quite the interest in the art of statecraft. A rare trait, don't you think? She would love to hear your thoughts on governance and the affairs of the kingdom," the Duke stated, his eyes gleaming with expectation.
Vivienne, to her credit, managed a confident smile. "Perhaps one day, I might learn from your wisdom, Prince Liam."
Liam resisted the urge to sigh. It was subtle, but the intent was clear — these noble families were parading their daughters before him, each one hoping to catch his interest.
He glanced around, realizing that nearly every noble present had come accompanied by a daughter of marriageable age. Some families that were usually absent from such gatherings had made a rare appearance, while others who had nothing to gain from him had conveniently excused themselves from the event.
Liam maintained his composure, offering courteous yet noncommittal responses. "I'm sure there is much you can learn, Lady Vivienne. Ironhelm's governance is complex, but those with a keen mind will always find their place in its history."
A safe answer, neither encouraging nor dismissing.
The conversation continued in this manner, with noble after noble subtly maneuvering their daughters into his presence. Some were shy, others bold, but all were here for the same reason.
Liam smiled and exchanged pleasantries, but inwardly, he sighed.
He had been carefully placed in the center of a marriage arrangement disguised as a banquet. And his mother was behind it all.
His discomfort never surfaced; his expression remained composed. He endured the evening, humbly acknowledging those who spoke to him, neither encouraging nor rejecting their interest.
Finally, as the eve drew to an end, Liam excused himself, and he made his way back to his chambers.
Standing on his balcony, he gazed at the night sky. His eyes settling on the sealed letter in his grasp.
With steady hands, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. His father's words awaited him.
To my son, Liam Orlean,
I trust this letter finds you in good health.
You have chosen your own path, and as your father, I will not stand in your way. You have forfeited your claim to the throne, and with it, the weight of ruling. However, that does not mean you are free from responsibility. The blood of Ironhelm still runs through your veins, and with that comes duty — duty to understand the land that has nurtured you, the people who look to you, and the forces that shape our empire.
Since you have formally relinquished your claim to the throne, it is only fitting that you begin preparing for the life that awaits you beyond it. You are still a prince of Ironhelm, and as such, your understanding of the empire's workings must not be neglected.
I wish for you to enroll in the Arthur Royal Institute. It is there that you will learn the ways of Ironhelm — not as a ruler, but as one who must still serve and strengthen the empire. You will study its governance, its diplomacy, its traditions, and its strengths. Knowledge, Liam, is power in its own right, and I will not have my son remain ignorant of the world around him.
During your time there, you will be under the guidance of Archmage Caelus, Master of the Azure Spire. He is a man of great wisdom and experience as you know, and I have arranged for him to oversee your studies personally. However, you must still earn your place within the institute through proper evaluatiom.
I do not ask this of you as your king, nor as one who dictates your future. I ask this as your father.
I hope you will consider my request with the thoughtfulness I know you possess.
Elijah Orlean
King of Ironhelm
The letter bore the royal seal.
*
The grand dining hall was filled with the scent of freshly baked bread, sweet fruits, and rich, steaming tea. Liam sat at the long table, surrounded by his sisters and the queens, who, much to his dismay, seemed just as interested in his answer as his siblings.
Seated at the head of the table, Queen Isabella watched him with a knowing expression, her fingers lightly resting on the rim of her teacup. Across from her, Queen Seraphina smiled as she elegantly sliced a piece of fruit, while Queen Elara observed with her usual composed demeanor.
Cecily, as always, was the first to push. "So, dear brother, who was your favorite?"
Liam, who had just taken a sip of his tea, nearly choked. He set his cup down carefully. "Favorite?" He feigned ignorance.
"Don't play dumb, Liam," Elaine interjected, grinning. "The banquet last night? The lovely noble daughters who were oh-so-eager to speak with you?"
Evaline giggled. "Some of them looked so nervous. It was adorable."
"I spoke to many people last night," Liam replied, keeping his voice neutral. "That's all it was — conversation."
"Oh, come now, Liam," Isabella finally spoke, her voice carrying the soft authority of a mother who knew everything. "It was clear that many were eager to make an impression on you."
"Exactly," Cassandra chimed in. "Lady Celina could barely speak in full sentences around you."
"Or maybe Lady Vivienne Langston?" Elaine added. "She was rather confident. Do you prefer bold women, Liam?"
Queen Seraphina chuckled softly, setting her fork down. "It would be interesting to know what kind of woman my son favors."
Liam sighed. "I wasn't choosing a bride. I was just trying to survive the night."
Queen Elara, ever the calm observer, finally spoke. "You understood the true purpose of last night's gathering?"
Liam exhaled. "I did." His gaze flickered to Isabella. "Mother made sure of it."
Isabella met his stare without hesitation. "Of course I did."
She took a sip of her tea before continuing. "Since you've forfeited your claim to the throne, there are fewer reasons for noble houses to form political alliances with you. However, you are still a prince of Ironhelm, and a son of mine. That alone makes you a highly sought-after match."
Liam leaned back, rubbing his temple. "And those who weren't interested in me didn't even bother to attend."
"Exactly," Cassandra said approvingly.
Seraphina smiled. "But many did attend. The daughters of dukes, marquesses, and counts alike. All with the hopes of catching your interest."
"Or rather," Liam corrected, "with the hopes of securing a connection to the royal family."
Elara inclined her head. "And is that so wrong?"
Liam fell silent for a moment before replying, "I think I'm too young to be thinking about it."
"That won't stop Mother," Cassandra muttered under her breath.
Isabella merely smiled. "You'll understand in time."
Cecily leaned in, grinning. "Well, if you need help sorting through your admirers, you know who to ask."
Liam gave her a flat look. "I think I'll manage."
His sisters laughed, while the queens exchanged glances, each with their own thoughts on the matter. One thing was clear — this conversation was far from over.
Liam placed his fork down, his appetite waning as his thoughts solidified. He turned to Queen Isabella.
"Mother," he said, "I've decided — I'll be going to the Arthur Royal Institute."
A brief flicker of satisfaction passed through Isabella's eyes, but she didn't appear surprised. Instead, she nodded as if she had expected this all along.
"So, Father's letter was persuasive," she mused, taking a slow sip of tea.
Liam studied her carefully. "You knew about it."
"Of course," she admitted. "Did you think your father wouldn't inform me of his wishes?"
He frowned slightly. "You weren't shocked when I mentioned it just now. Almost as if you had planned for me to come to this decision."
She smiled. "I was merely giving you the opportunity to reach the conclusion yourself."
A sigh escaped him as he leaned back in his chair. "I should've known."
"Then you're learning," Isabella said, her tone amused.
Liam tapped a finger against the table, thinking. "This banquet… it wasn't just to parade noble daughters in front of me, was it?"
"Oh? What else do you think it was for?"
Liam's eyes darkened slightly as he pieced it together. The banquet had been an introduction — a subtle arrangement, carefully woven into the traditions of the Eve of Noah. The nobility had brought their daughters to meet him, not just for marriage prospects, but because…
"They'll all be at the Institute," he realized.
Isabella's silence was answer enough.
Liam clenched his jaw. "So, every girl I spoke to last night — every daughter presented to me—wasn't just a potential suitor. They're part of noble houses that intend to send their children to Arthur Royal Institute. Meaning, I'll be seeing them again."
"Most of them, yes," Isabella confirmed. "Apart from your elder brothers who have their paths set, the Institute is the place of learning and opportunity for every nobility and special children of ironhelm." She tilted her head slightly. "And daughters? Well, a royal connection is valuable, whether through marriage or through simple association."
Liam exhaled slowly. "You're telling me I can't avoid them even if I wanted to."
Isabella's smile deepened. "It would be unwise to ignore them completely. Some of them might prove… useful."
Liam ran a hand through his hair. "Wonderful."
Cecily stifled a laugh beside him. "Looks like you won't be lonely at the Institute, dear brother."
Evaline grinned. "Oh, imagine the excitement when they all see you again."
Liam shot them both a withering look. "You're enjoying this too much."
Isabella simply sipped her tea, satisfied. "Then it's settled. You'll enroll in the Royal Institute."
Liam glanced at his mother once more. The more he thought about it, the clearer it became — this was always her intent. A subtle nudge, an evening of carefully placed suitors, and now, a path that would entangle him in noble politics whether he wanted it or not.
He sighed again. I really walked into this one, didn't I?
Liam straightened in his seat and asked, "When would I be leaving, Mother?"
Isabella set her teacup down delicately. "You will depart in a few days," she said. "Your sisters will be accompanying you."
Cecily, who had been idly swirling her spoon in her tea, suddenly paused. "Wait," she said slowly, lifting her head. "Which sisters?"
Isabella turned to her with a composed smile. "Cassandra, Elaine, Evaline, and Cecily—"
Cecily's expression brightened for a fleeting moment before Isabella continued, "—will remain here."
The air around the table shifted.
"What?" Cecily blinked, stunned. "What do you mean 'remain here'?"
Liam raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like someone assumed too much."
Cecily shot him a glare. "Brother!" Then she turned back to Elara, her voice growing more insistent. "Why am I not going mother?"
Cecily's expression fell as the realization hit her.
Queen Elara offered a gentle smile. "Not yet, Cecily. You still have a few more years before you're eligible."
Cecily turned to Liam with wide eyes. "Brother—!"
Liam smirked.
Cecily pouted, crossing her arms. "That's not fair! Why do they get to go with you, but I don't?"
Liam reached out and ruffled her hair. "Don't worry. I'll visit whenever I can."
Cecily huffed but didn't argue. Instead, she muttered under her breath, still sulking.
Isabella watched the exchange with a faint smile. "Then it's settled. The four of you will prepare for departure soon."
Liam exhaled, his thoughts already shifting to what awaited him at the Institute. Whether he liked it or not, his path had been decided.