The carriage rumbled over the stone-paved roads, the grand capital city slowly coming into view. Areion leaned against the window, watching the familiar streets pass by, while Romona sat beside him, deep in thought.
The weight of the navy-blue Order of Odysseus blazer still clung to her shoulders. It felt heavier than before—not because of its fabric, but because of what it meant.
As the carriage rolled to a halt before the castle gates, she instinctively reached for the blazer's buttons, beginning to remove it.
"Hey…"
She froze as Areion's voice cut through the air.
"Don't remove that just yet," he said with gentle tone.
Romona hesitated, her fingers hovering over the buttons. She turned to him, her face slowly flushing red.
"I can't…? Your Highness?" She asked cautiously, her voice almost uncertain.
Areion gave a simple nod. "Wear it with pride," he reminds her, words of the headmaster she seems to forget.
A strange mix of emotions flickered across her face—relief, disbelief, and a hint of something else. Slowly, she let go of the blazer and adjusted it over her shoulders instead.
"But not in the place of work." She replied, "just this once for maa to see you in it."
The carriage doors swung open. Stepping out, the two were greeted by a sight that caught even Areion off guard.
The entire castle courtyard was lined with nobles, knights, and attendants, all gathered in eager anticipation. The banners of Lorium fluttered in the evening breeze, and at the very front, standing beneath the towering entrance of the castle, was a group of individuals who mattered most.
Queen Vivienne.
King Valdemar.
Lucian.
Caius.
And nearly every important figure within the royal court.
Romona instinctively stiffened, unused to being the centre of such attention. But Areion, ever composed, walked forward with a smile on his face, his hands casually tucked in his pockets. He can't help but feel that everything he does, everyone around him celebrates it. No matter how insignificant an admission into the academy seems. Something he doesn't prefer even in his previous life, but at the same time, he doesn't seem to mind at all.
As they approached, Lucian was the first to react.
"Heh." The ever-stoic elder brother crossed his arms. "Took you long enough."
His red eyes scanned Areion's blazer and emblem, a quiet approval and pride glinting beneath his usual aloofness. He gave a single nod.
"Welcome to the Order, junior."
Areion smirks mischievously and pokes his chest with his elbow before simply saying,. "Okay~Senior"
Before going to forward areion stopped looks at door then back at him as if contemplating something in his mind, "Am I missing something?"
"I don't know what you pointing out.", his reply was dry enough that areion didn't digest it as he looked back again then gave up on his thinking.
Caius's eyes followed Areion as he approached, a flicker of resentment sparking in their depths. He exhaled sharply, a puff of air escaping his nostrils. "So, the prodigal returns," he drawled, his voice laced with a sardonic amusement. "And with the expected fanfare, no less." He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. "Tell me, dear brother, did they roll out the red carpet for you? Or perhaps a parade in your honour?"
Caius's words dripped with sarcasm, but Areion could detect a hint of begrudging admiration beneath the surface. He knew Caius well enough to understand that his brother's barbs were often a shield for deeper emotions.
"No parade, brother," Areion replied calmly, his voice even. "Just a heart warming welcome and a new opportunity."
"Ah, yes," Caius scoffed, "the esteemed Order of Odyssey. A prestigious path for a prestigious prince." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But don't let it get to your head, little brother. Even the brightest stars can fall."
Areion met Caius's gaze, his expression unreadable. "I appreciate the concern, Caius. But I'm not afraid of a challenges. I'm your junior now; take care of me."
"Of course, why not, little brother?" Caius said, his smirk widening. "But don't forget, even gold can devalue."
Caius turned and walked away, leaving Areion to ponder his words. There was a bitterness in Caius's voice, a resentment that Areion couldn't quite decipher. He knew that Caius had always felt overshadowed by him, but this seemed different.
Areion shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside.
King Valdemar, standing tall with his hands resting over his sword's pommel, gave a slow, approving nod. His deep blue eyes, so much like Areion's, held a quiet warmth.
"As expected, Areion."
Areion simply shrugged. "Not like I had a choice father," he mused, though the playful smirk that followed betrayed his true feelings.
Their conversation was short and precise, with no unwanted vocabulary or hidden meaning behind their words.
His gaze then shifted to Vivienne. Unlike the others, the queen remained silent, a serene stillness radiating from her. Her silvery hair, usually a cascade of light. Her emerald green eyes, fixed on him, held a depth that went beyond simple maternal affection, a knowing intensity that hinted at unseen currents. Areion sensed a shift, a subtle alteration in the atmosphere, as if the very air around her held its breath. She had been waiting. For him. For this moment.
Areion's playful façade dissolved, replaced by a deep, almost reverent warmth. He had always felt an unspoken connection to his mother, but right now she looks different; her presence feels off. Now, standing before her, he felt the weight of that unspoken knowledge, a sense of something far larger than himself.
Finally, Vivienne spoke, her voice a soft, melodic hum that seemed to resonate within the very bones of the hall, "My son…"
Those two words, spoken with an almost reverent tenderness, held a depth that resonated far beyond their simple meaning. In the next instant, she closed the distance, her movements fluid and graceful, and enveloped him in an embrace. It wasn't a demonstrative, theatrical display; it was a quiet, profound connection, a silent exchange of love and understanding.
"Sweetheart," she murmured, her voice laced with a pride, a hint of something more, something Areion couldn't quite place. She pulled back slightly, her eyes scanning his face with an almost unnerving intensity, as if she were searching for something hidden within him.
"you look much more... ", her fingers run through the uniform, the knots, the curves , the buttons before continuing "Mature, in this uniform."
She paused, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "But remember, Areion," she said, her voice gaining a subtle, almost imperceptible edge, "not all changes are visible. Some… run deeper. Some are written in the constellations."
Her gaze flickered towards the stained-glass windows, where the evening sun cast long, distorted shadows across the floor. "The path ahead will be fraught with trials, my son." She paused, her eyes returning to his, their emerald depths holding a knowing intensity. "Tell me, Areion, what is your affinity?"
Areion met her gaze, his expression unwavering. "Pure light," he replied, his voice clear and resonant.
Vivienne's lips curved into a subtle, almost imperceptible smile. "Pure light," she repeated softly. "Rare, clean." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly, her gaze piercing. "And what of your second affinity, Areion?"
Areion hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "None," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.
Vivienne's subtle smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. She shook her head slowly, her gaze softening. "My dear boy," she said gently, placing a hand on his cheek. "That is… a singular path. But do not see it as a limitation. See it as a focus. Now, you only have one direction to master, one wellspring to deepen. Be the master of your own self, Areion. Channel that pure light until it burns brighter than any star. Sometimes, a single, unwavering flame can illuminate the darkest corners."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There are forces at play, Areion, forces that seek to disrupt the balance of our world. To face them, you will need more than just light. You will need to understand the shadows to truly appreciate its brilliance. More importantly, accept the power you possess, but remember, even the purest light casts a shadow as far as eyes can see."
She paused, her gaze sweeping across the stained-glass windows, where the distorted shadows danced in the fading sunlight. "Do not limit yourself, Areion. Do not allow your potential to be confined by the absence of another. Seek the depths of your own light, understand its nuances, its strengths, and yes, even its potential weaknesses. For only then will you truly understand the power you possess."
She released him, her smile returning, but it held a hint of profound understanding. "But you, Areion, you will shine. You will find your way. I just know it." She then turned her gaze towards Romona, and the brief moment of intensity was gone, replaced by a gentle smile.
"Maa," Areion responded, his voice soft, "I've felt your presence even when I was far away. Like a guiding star in the darkest night." He paused, his gaze mirroring hers as he looked towards the stained-glass windows. "I understand that the world is a tapestry of light and darkness and that choices have consequences. But I've learnt from my time away; I've learnt to trust my instincts, to trust you."
He looked back at her, a hint of a playful smile returning to his lips. "And besides," he added, his voice regaining its usual light-hearted tone, "I've always been good at finding my way, even in the dark." He paused, a flicker of something serious crossing his features. "But if I ever lose my way, I know I can always find you, right?", his voice came out more like a question then a statement.
Vivienne pulled back slightly, her keen eyes scanning Areion as if etching every detail into her memory. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her lips, a mixture of maternal pride and a deeper, unspoken understanding. Then, her gaze shifted to Romona.
Romona, standing a respectful distance away, felt a wave of nervous energy wash over her. Under the Queen's steady gaze, she instinctively lowered her head, a gesture of deference and respect. She had always felt a sense of awe and reverence in Vivienne's presence, a feeling amplified by the subtle power that radiated from her.
To Romona's surprise, Vivienne's lips curved into a warm, gentle smile. It wasn't a regal, distant smile, but a genuine expression of kindness and understanding. Her gaze lingered on the Order blazer and uniform Romona still wore, a silent acknowledgement of her role and her dedication.
And then, Vivienne nodded, a slow movement that conveyed a sense of quiet approval.
Romona's breath hitched, a wave of warmth spreading through her chest. It wasn't just a nod; it was a silent affirmation, a recognition of her worth. She felt a surge of gratitude, a sense of belonging she hadn't expected. In that moment, she realised that she was not just Areion's personal servant, but a valued member of their circle, accepted and appreciated by the queen herself. A sense of purpose settled within her, a quiet determination to prove herself worthy of Vivienne's trust.