In the grand hallway of the Northern Kingdom, Celistine seethed with frustration. Her father had decided to agree with Leon, despite the fact that he hailed from the Blackthreads, and there was no proof he was an enemy. The King had allowed Leon to stay in the North, at least temporarily, as their guest. But Leon was no ordinary visitor; as the leader of the Blackthreads, he was a guest of utmost importance, deserving careful attention. He would remain in the North for a few weeks, after which Celistine would depart to confront Harold herself, attending a meeting with the four kingdoms. Even then, there was no guarantee that her decisions would be accepted — much depended on how the negotiations unfolded.
"My lady… you don't seem to be in the best of spirits today," Leon teased, his eyes lingering on Celistine's frown, which hadn't softened since his arrival.
"You truly have the audacity to ask me that?" Celistine retorted, a sarcastic smile tugging at her lips. As always, she had been assigned by the King to escort and tour Leon here to the northern mansion — whether he needed assistance or not, Celistine was to accompany him.
Leon chuckled softly. "Ah, very well… my apologies." He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes closing briefly in an attempt to ease the tension radiating from the lady before him.
"Anyway… what brings you here?" Celistine asked, curiosity pricking at her mind. Why had Leon come to the North, particularly at this moment?
"As I said, I was bored at our base. Is it so terrible that I ventured here?" Leon replied.
They walked together toward the garden, a haven of blossoms — pink roses, delicate orchids, and Spanish moss draped across the trees. Cherry blossoms swayed gently, and a vast lake lay beyond, dotted with water lilies. Celistine's emerald-green velvet gown clung gracefully to her figure, its square neckline and golden embroidery shimmering in the sunlight. Black lace trimmed her sleeves, and her golden hair was styled in an elegant updo, loose strands softening the frame of her face — a picture of refined beauty.
"Are you here because you were bored… or because you wished to plant spies here?" Celistine said sharply, lifting her brows at him.
"Ha? Seriously? No, I have no intention of spying on you. And I know you have no reason to betray me either," Leon said, slightly annoyed, though his gaze softened as they both paused to admire the sunlit lake, the water lilies glowing brilliantly.
"Anyway why does the North have such a strained relationship with the other kingdoms, particularly the Western Empire? The Emperor — he's your former husband, isn't he?" Leon asked, his curiosity quieting the air around them. He noticed Celistine's gaze had grown distant, her violet eyes deep and reflective. Perhaps he had said something wrong.
He steadied himself. "I'm sorry… did I speak badly?"
"No… I merely recalled something from the past," Celistine replied. As they stood by the lake, Leon removed his cloak and laid it gently over the grass, startling her.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Would you care to sit here? I feel our conversation may run deep," Leon teased, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Celistine allowed herself a small smile, and together they settled on the cloak, gazing at the bright sky where flocks of birds wheeled gracefully above. They were alone in the castle's gardens; Celistine had requested the servants to stay away, and Leon's guards remained at the guest quarters.
"You see, my lord," Celistine began softly, "the North did not truly hold power when I married the Emperor of the Western Empire."
"For what reason?" Leon asked seriously, a mix of curiosity and concern in his golden eyes.
"My father and the late Emperor were close allies. They fought together against a mercenary group seeking to colonize the North. Though the battle was won, the North suffered greatly. The Emperor promised that the three kingdoms would support the North's recovery," Celistine explained, her voice quiet, almost wistful.
"So that's why you married that… man?" Leon asked, his voice low, edged with something Celistine could not quite place.
"Yes… I cannot fathom why Harold and his mother harboured a grudge against the North and betrayed us so suddenly," Celistine admitted. Leon sensed a flicker of anger in her tone. He did not wish to offend her, only to understand. Memories of their first encounter resurfaced — the night of the ball, when Celistine had been married to Harold. Leon had never intended to meet a woman wed to an enemy. Yet when he learned that she and Harold were divorced, something stirred within him — an unfamiliar, strange feeling he could not ignore.
"Do you love him?" Leon asked bluntly, curiosity and concern mingling in his voice.
"Yes… I did," Celistine said, her eyes filled with sadness and regret. Her heart had belonged to Harold, but he had never cared, never noticed her devotion, and had even arranged to trade her to Medeya.
"Do you still love him?" Leon pressed gently.
"No…" she replied, cold and straightforward, plucking a leaf that had drifted into her palm.
"Glad to hear it," Leon murmured, a teasing undertone in his voice as he plucked an orchid petal from the grass, his golden eyes sparkling.
"What did you say?" Celistine asked, curious, having been so absorbed in her leaf that she had missed his words. Leon only smiled, amused by her flustered attention.
"I said… you are clever and knowledgeable," he lied smoothly. Celistine, unconvinced, turned back to the lake, catching sight of two swans gliding gracefully toward each other. Their movements mirrored one another perfectly, slender necks curving until they met in the shape of a heart — a silent vow beneath the morning light. With every gentle brush of their beaks, the world seemed to pause; only their promise of loyalty remained. Celistine wished she could feel such sweetness.
Suddenly, Celistine spun around, and her violet eyes widened in shock. There, almost unbearably close, was Leon — his face mere inches from hers. Time seemed to stretch, their noses brushing together, teetering on the edge of a kiss. Heart hammering, Celistine instinctively pressed her palms against his face, pushing him back. Leon stumbled, landing on the grass with a frown of disbelief.
"Wha—what are you doing?" she exclaimed, one hand pressed to her chest, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she stepped back. Leon rubbed his chin, wincing slightly.
"Ouch! I was merely removing a caterpillar from your head," he said, grinning sheepishly.
"But… why were you so close… as if—" Celistine faltered, mentally choking on the unspoken word kiss, utterly ashamed that Leon might guess her thoughts.
Leon's amused smile widened at her reaction. "As if what? My lady, were you expecting something more?" he teased lightly, watching her flustered expression.
"Nothing! I'm leaving," Celistine snapped, brushing dust from her gown as she retreated, avoiding his gaze.
'What am I thinking?' Celistine scolded herself silently as she turned and left the garden, leaving Leon still seated on the grass. He covered his mouth to stifle a laugh, unable to hide how amusing he found her reaction. It wasn't unpleasant or offensive — merely delightfully flustered.
His attention, however, had been on the caterpillar perched on Celistine's hair. He had intended to point it out to her, yet he chose not to, knowing how absorbed she was in watching the swans. He didn't wish to disturb her peaceful moment.
The tiny creature slowly wriggled out of reach, and Leon leaned forward carefully, reaching toward her hair. To his surprise, Celistine suddenly turned, and their noses bumped together, dangerously close to a kiss.
"I never imagined she could be so beautifully cute," Leon murmured to himself, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. He turned his gaze back to the serene lake, letting the gentle morning light reflect off the water — yet Celistine's presence made the world feel even brighter, impossible to ignore.
******
In the lands of Portekwero, David had already received the message from the Western Empire. At the border, the knights had pitched their tents in orderly rows, forming a temporary camp. Some lounged on the grass, tending to their weapons or sharpening swords, while others kept watch from makeshift towers, their eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of movement. The air was filled with the scent of campfires and the soft clatter of armour as soldiers passed the time, their conversations low and cautious. Despite the calm, a quiet tension lingered over the camp — each knight fully aware that the Empire's summons could demand immediate action at any moment.
"Lord Johanes… you will oversee here," Carlo commanded, adjusting his attire before mounting his horse. Bowing respectfully beneath him was Johanes.
"Yes, Your Majesty. And please, do send my regards to my daughter as well," Johanes replied, his tone deferential.
"Take care," Carlo said, and with ten knights in tow, he rode off towards the North. He had chosen not to travel by carriage, preferring to go directly home. Beyond duty, Carlo longed to meet his lover, Rehena, who had patiently awaited his return from the North. Having spent several weeks in Potekwero, and with no immediate threats looming, he had requested permission from the King to return home first, as his sister would be away for a few months attending the Emperor. The journey to the North would take nearly eight hours.
Meanwhile, in the Northern Kingdom, the marketplace bustled with life. Merchants called out their wares, stalls overflowed with fragrant spices and delicious foods, and laughter and chatter filled every corner. It was already afternoon, and among the crowds wandered a young girl dressed in a teal crop top with gold embellishments, draped coral-colored pants, and a matching teal sash. Gold necklaces, earrings, bracelets, and arm cuffs adorned her, and a brown cloak covered her shoulders. Her tan skin, dark hair, and striking blue eyes belonged to Leanya, the ever-beloved youngest sister of Leon. Unbeknownst to him, she had slipped away from the base to explore, accompanied only by her loyal maid, Fatma.
"Nako, Rylas! Si Havan faelir, tiren'ka shorak si'len kora, Lord Leon!"
`Oh no, Your Highness! If Havan finds out that we were wandering here, he will definitely report us to Lord Leon,`
Fatma whispered, trembling with worry.
"Na'ka shara. Faelir myr'ken si'len kora, tiren'ka nashak. Ahaha."~Don't be scared. As long as my brother doesn't find out, we won't die. Ahaha,~ Leanya said, her tone brimming with pride, as if to say that Havan would never suspect them absent from the base.
Leanya together with her servant strolled freely through the marketplace. She had tasted nearly every delicacy, laughing and enjoying the freedom that came with being far from her brother's watchful eyes. Though she possessed skill in swordsmanship and martial arts, she was still a young girl at heart, eager to explore the world beyond the base.
"Rinak, si'len kora jewari shorak."
~Look, there's a jewellery shop,~ she said, grabbing Fatma's hand as they headed inside.
Upon entering, Leanya's eyes glittered at the sight of jewellery far more exquisite than anything in the Blackthreads' lands. Most jewels back home were either gold or pearls set in gold, but these were entirely new to her.
"Faelir na kora, Rylas?"~Isn't it expensive here, Your Highness?~ Fatma asked, clearly overwhelmed by the splendor her mistress had led her into.
"Kara shalir kora, tiren'ka nashak. Ehehe."~Let's just have a look; we won't buy anything. Ehehe,~ Leanya replied boldly, her gaze magnetized by every piece on display. The shop was nearly no customers buying, and though there was no attendant assisting them, she hardly noticed—after all, they had come simply to wander.
Her eyes were soon drawn to an emerald necklace, set on a gold chain with an oval green gemstone surrounded by smaller clear stones, displayed on a mannequin. She reached out curiously — only to freeze as another hand grasped the necklace first.
Looking up, Leanya saw a tall man standing shoulder to shoulder with her. Golden hair framed his fair face, and his dark purple eyes were focused intently on the emerald pendant. For reasons she could not explain, her heart skipped a beat.
"Oh… sorry, were you going to take this?" the man asked, smiling warmly. Startled, Leanya quickly looked away, embarrassed.
"No—no, you can have it," she stammered, cheeks flushed. It was the first time she had seen such a strikingly handsome man, clad in a white and gold military-style jacket over a black vest, paired with white trousers and a black belt. A light blue cape draped elegantly over his shoulders, completing his regal appearance.
"Oh… well, I'll take it then. Haha," the man replied, his charming smile making Leanya's heart flutter.
The man handed the payment to the shopkeeper, who carefully placed the emerald necklace into a navy-blue box, then slid it into a pink gift box tied with a delicate ribbon. After receiving the box, the man stepped out of the shop, leaving Leanya momentarily spellbound. She found herself following him with her gaze all the way outside, curiosity flaring in her chest. Mounted on a white horse, he rode away, flanked by his guards in striking red-and-black military attire.
'Wait… is he of noble blood?; Leanya wondered, her thoughts racing, even as Fatma gently urged her to return to the base before Havan discovered her absence.