The ceremonies organized by the Douglas family were known for their brevity. The kingdom's nobility attended more out of obligation than enjoyment, and though no one dared refuse an invitation from the duchy, few truly relished their company. The Douglases inspired respect… but also fear.
An hour after the ceremony concluded, Lusian was saying his farewells to Emily and the Carter family. Everything had gone according to plan, without incident. Yet deep inside, a faint weariness pressed against his shoulders. One final meeting remained.
In a private chamber of the Temple of Sangus, Queen Adelaine Erkhan Stanley, Crown Prince Andrew, and First Princess Elizabeth waited. As soon as Sophia and Lusian entered, the queen spoke calmly:
"Have all the servants withdraw."
The air grew heavier. By instinct, Lusian braced for a rigid diplomatic discussion, thick with protocol and restraint. What happened next unsettled him completely.
Adelaine and Sophia embraced.
Not a cold gesture, nor a formal bow—but a warm, genuine hug, like old friends reunited after too long apart. Then they intertwined their hands and sat together, laughing naturally, as if for a brief moment they could escape—the weight of their titles forgotten.
Lusian watched with quiet fascination. It was strange to see his mother, Duchess Douglas, smiling like that.
There was a reason.
Since the kingdom's founding, an ancient oath had existed between the Crown and House Douglas: together, they would safeguard the realm's stability. In theory, a sacred pact. In practice, much had changed.
The current king, Philip Erkhan Stanley, had inherited more resentment than wisdom. His younger brother, Prince Jeremy, had attempted to usurp the throne by leading a rebellion alongside several nobles, including Viscount Ricardo Jones. To prevent civil war, the then–Duke Damian Douglas—Lusian's grandfather—executed Jeremy with the approval of the regent, Adrian Erkhan Brown, Philip's father.
Philip never forgave the Douglas family.
Since that day, the king avoided all direct dealings with the duchy, delegating everything to his wife, Queen Adelaine. Laurence Douglas had done the same, entrusting such matters to Sophia.
Thus, what appeared to be a casual conversation between two women was, in truth, a meeting between the kingdom's true intermediaries of power.
Lusian was lost in thought and didn't notice someone approach.
"Tea?" a gentle voice asked.
He blinked. Princess Elizabeth stood before him, holding a teacup with elegant poise. Golden hair fell over her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled with a lively, almost mischievous glint.
For a moment, Lusian was speechless.
Elizabeth Erkhan Stanley.
He recognized her instantly. In the game, she had been the Demon Queen—a princess abducted by a cult and made into the vessel of an infernal entity. Her story was tragic… and, in its own way, profoundly human.
"Is something wrong?" Elizabeth asked with a playful smile. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No, Your Highness," he replied, regaining his composure. "I was merely… distracted."
Her smile sharpened, dangerous now. And she was not alone.
At the far end of the room, Prince Andrew watched him, arms crossed, an amused eyebrow raised. They were clearly plotting something.
Elizabeth sighed theatrically, placing a hand to her face.
"Oh, Lusian… were you thinking about your fiancée? Are you really going to abandon me for her?"
Before he could react, Andrew stepped forward, slapping him exaggeratedly on the back.
"So you made my sister cry! First you win her heart, then you ignore her. What a cruel man you are, Douglas!"
Lusian stared at him, bewildered. Were they really doing this?
Fragments of the original Lusian's memories surfaced—scenes of these two siblings teasing him whenever possible. Now he understood why he had always avoided them.
He looked to his mother for help, but Sophia was still chatting animatedly with the queen, ignoring him completely.
He sighed.
"Tell me, Your Highness," he said flatly, "when exactly did I win your heart?"
Elizabeth put on a thoughtful expression.
"It was love at first sight. Are you truly going to deny my feelings and refuse responsibility?"
Lusian narrowed his eyes.
"And when did this love begin?"
"When you were seven years old," she replied without hesitation. "You were so adorable… I fell in love then."
Seven years old. That meant she had been nine.
Very well. If they wanted to play, he could play too.
In a soft, seductive, and entirely deliberate tone, he said:
"Why didn't you tell me sooner, my sweet princess? We could have announced our engagement that very day."
Elizabeth blushed slightly—but did not retreat.
"I hadn't told you before… but I like you, Lusian."
Andrew raised a hand as though making a solemn proclamation.
"As the future monarch, I officially approve this union."
Lusian looked at him calmly.
"Insufferable," he muttered.
And without overthinking it, he did what, in his previous life, had always worked when someone pushed him too far.
He kicked the crown prince in the shin.
"Gah!" Andrew let out a muffled cry, doubling over in pain.
Composed, Lusian sat beside Sophia with an air of complete innocence. Queen Adelaine and Duchess Sophia, having witnessed the scene, exchanged amused glances. The queen laughed softly; Sophia pinched her son's cheek.
"Behave yourself, Lusian," she whispered with indulgent amusement.
Andrew rubbed his leg indignantly while Elizabeth laughed openly.
"It seems Lusian has changed, Mother," she remarked.
"Yes, my dear," Adelaine replied serenely. "He's no longer the shy boy you used to tease. Isn't that right, Andrew?"
The prince muttered something unintelligible. The two women smiled knowingly. The young Douglas was no longer a child.
That night, as Lusian and Sophia returned to the Douglas estate, the silence of the carriage was comforting. Reaching his room, Lusian collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted.
He did not think of politics, engagements, or gods.
He murmured a single word before sleep claimed him:
"…insufferable."
And so, amid laughter, blood-bound secrets, and a destiny beginning to stir, the day Lusian Douglas's life truly began to change drew to a close.