The Princess Joins the Journey
The sky remained a mellow orange color, the sun half-way up over the horizon. Its rays painted soft, golden light over the spires and white-stone buildings of Moonspire, dreaming the city into silence. A breeze wafted through the air, cool on the skin, fragrant with the smell of fresh soil and wildflowers carried far away. The stillness of early morning was sometimes interrupted by the faraway clatter of hooves and spinning wheels, resonating faintly between the high marble walls.
A number of carriages had already set off, crawling slowly through the city gates and trailing pale wisps of dust behind them. The roads were fringed by soldiers and retainers, exchanging hasty phrases as they urged their designated carts and caravans along. Banners rustled softly above, catching the wind like the soft voices of a kingdom on the move. The orange glow of the sun had not yet yielded to the brightness of dawn, casting a golden shroud over the city’s borders—a moment caught in between the quiet of night and the urgings of a new dawn.
There was no disorder, just the quiet beat of an army and nobles getting ready for a long march. Last-minute instructions were issued, and provisions were tied down in exact sequence. The chill gleam of metal armor caught the sun’s gentle light, and footsteps broke through dew-kissed stone. The heart of the city beat steadily, though somberly—like it sensed a storm would come after the calm of this sunrise.
Outside the outer palace close to the eastern wing of Leon’s estate, all arrangements for the final leg of the journey had finally come to a conclusion.
The clatter of hooves on stone in the courtyard echoed through the clear morning air as the first light of dawn cast a golden glow over Moonspire. At the center of the estate was Leon’s own caravan—a stately yet commanding presence that seemed to radiate both nobility and strength. His royal carriage, a work of art painted in rich silver and royal blue, shone under the sun-colored sky. Its mirror-like surface reflected the light, commanding covert adoration from each soldier who dared look its direction.
Four Windsteeds were harnessed in the front, their snowy coats shining with dew. Sapphire-blue manes danced delicately in the wind as their breath misted into the cold air. These were not common steeds—they were wind-blessed stallions, noble animals bred for battle and ceremony, their clever eyes surveying the landscape with silent watchfulness.
On watch beside the carriage was Captain Black, the perpetually stoic commander whose very presence demanded discipline. Wearing all black armor edged with silver, he resembled a shadow cast from steel. The sunlight danced around the curves of his chest plate, flashing in delicate glints as he stood silently precise. His hand lay loosely but firmly on the handle of his sword, his eyes keen and steady as they moved around the courtyard.
Behind him, a group of guards in identical black-and-silver armor stood at rigid attention, creating an elite guard. Their array was tight, unyielding—honed to equal the grace and stature of the Duke they protected.
And then, slowly, the grand entrance to Leon’s mansion opened.
Leon emerged from the mansion with his wives and entourage. He strode in the middle, his golden eyes surveying the horizon ahead in a serene stare, shining like molten sunlight beneath the orange horizon. Flanking him were Rias, Aria, Cynthia, Syra, and Kyra—each wearing stylish but sensible clothing custom-made for traveling, their dignity and elegance commanding as the noblewomen they were.
Rias led, her fiery hair spilling down her back, eyes light with vitality in spite of the early morning. Aria followed her, stride matched to her confident elegance, her light purple robes flowing softly with each movement—demeanor that of a moonlight-sculpted queen. Cynthia trailed a step behind, black-haired and serene, her tranquil eyes scanning the caravan with soft watchfulness. Syra and Kyra walked together, both dressed in rich emerald tones; Syra’s bold step and raised chin belied her twin’s softer, contemplative eyes that periodically wandered over to Leon, filled with warmth.
Mia accompanied them, her feet light and confident, a small smile playing at her mouth. She was dressed demurely but tastefully, and she held her shawl draped loosely across her shoulders, more in habit than in nervousness. Her black eyes glowed with subdued happiness as they every now and then met Leon’s eyes—no longer reserved, but brimming with unexpressed love and new-found confidence. There was soft warmth in her cheeks, not from shame, but from the joy of strolling among people she now regarded as family members.
Standing on either side of her were the five maids—Fey, Rui, Mira, Mona, and Lena—and each of them beautiful in their own unique way. Wearing travel-prepared versions of their alluring uniforms, black with silver piping, their voluptuous bodies were impossible to miss. Even with the same black hair and black eyes, their faces and carriage showed their individuality—come-hither smiles, wily glances, and the very occasional delicate touch of their fingers along the hem of their skirts, as if tantalizing only Leon could comprehend.
The noble quiet of the courtyard gave way a little with their coming. The entire caravan came to a standstill, sensing the seriousness of the moment. The guards had already done everything they could—trunks stowed, horses saddled, carriages in line. Ahead of them was Leon’s personal carriage, a stately beauty of rich blue and silver, shining brightly in the impending sun.
Captain Black, tall and imposing by the lead horses, swung around as Leon drew near. With slow, measured steps and his hands crossed behind his back, Leon moved with the air of a born leader, each step deliberate, tranquil, and full of presence.
His golden eyes relaxed into a smile as he came near, tranquil and assured.
As soon as he came within reach, Captain Black went to one knee without even hesitating. The formation of guards stationed around the courtyard followed suit in perfect synchrony, bowing their heads in silent homage to the man they had sworn to serve.
"Morning, my lord! My ladies!" the guards chorused as one, their deep, respectful voices ringing out across the still courtyard.
Leon provided a weak but pleasant smile. His wives echoed his look, each of them nodding silently—honoring the discipline and loyalty before them.
He nodded graciously, his voice soft yet firm. "Lift your heads, Captain. All of you."
In harmonious unison, the guards lifted their eyes.
Leon’s smile grew deeper weakly. "Is everything ready, Captain?"
Captain Black emerged with a sharp inclination of his head, his voice firm and official. "Every preparation is in place, my Lord. We wait only for your boarding."
Leon’s eyes temporarily left the grand main doors of the mansion. His walk slowed and he halted quietly. He was standing there, looking intently at the entrance as if waiting for someone.
His wives caught the abrupt lapse. Aria looked at him inquisitively, her purple eyes narrowing by the smallest fraction.
"Darling. why are you looking at the gate?" Aria whispered.
Leon didn’t answer immediately. Instead, a playful smile played on the edges of his lips. His face remained peaceful, but under that tranquility something unreadable in his eyes came alive.
Even Rias, always the first to toss a jesting comment, said nothing.
His gaze remained on the gate, tranquil on the surface but tempestuous beneath. There were things he had not told them—not yet. Not about Sona’s choice. Not about the unspoken connection and rather conversation they now had through the telepathic bond. He had not spoken of Sona’s daughter, Princess Lira, traveling with them. And he had not uttered a word regarding Tsubaki, proud and duty-bound knight who had been selected as Lira’s personal guard.
It wasn’t that he was embarrassed. It wasn’t shame that held his tongue. His connection to Sona had been made many years ago—years prior to any titles, crowns, or weddings. They were children together, and fate had now reunited them as wife and husband. But articulating it here, with all these people, in the chaos of leaving and the stress of so many watching, didn’t sit well.
Some facts weren’t meant to be uttered in passing. Not when the emotions were this deep.
He needed the right moment. A quiet one. A time to address each of them—not merely with words, but with sincerity they deserved.
He would tell them all—about Sona, and the telepathic bond—once they were traveling. Maybe even before they hit Silver City. But not now.
Then, a small voice pulled softly at the quiet.
"Daddy..." Rias murmured, coming closer and tugging on his sleeve. "Someone’s coming?"
Leon smiled softly and looked down at her, warmth shining in his eyes. "Yes, honey. Someone special. Are we expecting someone?"
His statement stopped the others in their tracks.
Kyra raised an eyebrow. "Who’s arriving at this time?"
Leon merely said, "Someone is."
Before anyone had a chance to wonder further, a faraway rhythm awakened in the morning air—hooves on stone, fast and sure. Heads turned, all eyes following the gates.
The sound became plainer with every step—purposeful, rhythmic, drawing near.
And then, through the dissipating morning haze, three riders came.
They rode purposefully, their forms becoming clearer as they drew near. Leading the way was an impressive figure—silvery-haired and dignified, riding with poise. Her hair glinted like silk under the golden rays of the rising sun, and her calm demeanor possessed a sense of recognition that made their hearts immediately take notice.
Rias blinked, a soft exhalation leaving her lips.