Chapter 4:
The grand hall shimmered under golden light as King Richmond Gold rose from his throne, his voice clear and proud.
"I present to you, Prince Richard Richmond Gold, my son."
The young man stepped forward, dressed in regal yet practical attire, his crimson eyes scanning the room with mild amusement. A subtle, sarcastic smile tugged at the corners of his lips when he saw Mariela.
"There's no need for such a formal presentation, Father," he said with a lazy bow. "Just Richard will do."
Peter Mariott, standing tall beside Mariela, offered a respectful nod. "My prince, I do not think I will ever dare address you so informally. This is my remarkable daughter, Mariela Elise Mariott. And I am Peter Mariott, guardian of the Western region of our great kingdom. It is an honor to meet you, sire."
Gently, he nudged his daughter forward. Mariela hesitated briefly, then offered a proper bow, her golden eyes lowered in courtesy.
"It is our absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Richard," she said, her voice composed though her heart fluttered.
Richard tilted his head, his eyes narrowing with playful interest. "Mariela… Your face seems familiar somehow. I wonder where I've seen you?"
"Perhaps we did meet," she replied lightly, lips twitching with a hint of mischief. "I've been a guest in your palace corridor for a week now."
"Is that so?" he mused, feigning deep thought.
The king chuckled, clearly amused. "It seems you are already getting along."
Before anyone could respond, a guard leaned in to whisper something to the king. With a nod, the monarch stepped down from his throne.
"I will leave the rest in your hands, Richard. Sir Mariott, Mariela—it was a pleasure. I hope we speak again soon."
The room rose in a collective bow until the king exited. Once the doors closed behind him, Prince Richard turned to the two guests.
"Sir Mariott, Mariela, allow me to introduce the project my father wishes to entrust to you."
Peter inclined his head. "Please, enlighten us."
"I oversee our kingdom's protection and health systems—anything military or related to prosperity. Recently, it has come to our attention that people have been traveling all the way from the capital to your region in the West… seeking your daughter's remedies and rare plants."
He turned to Mariela now. "So, what we're proposing is this: we ask that you share your knowledge with our physicians and farmers—train them to identify and cultivate these resources. We want your methods passed on."
Peter blinked. "You want Mariela to stay here? In the capital?"
"Only for three years," Richard replied. "Long enough to ensure her knowledge is preserved and expanded across the kingdom. We're also planning collaborations with neighboring lands—to strengthen alliances and improve food and medical supply lines."
"I understand," Peter said carefully. "But I would like to think this over, and more importantly, speak with Mariela about her wishes."
"Of course," Richard agreed. "Take all the time you need. We will offer compensation to your family. But, in the end, we ask this not as a transaction—but as a favor to the kingdom."
Later that evening, the halls of the palace had grown quiet. Peter retreated to his chamber without a word, deep in thought, while Mariela, restless and overwhelmed, slipped quietly into the night.
Unseen by Gideon, she wandered into the palace gardens. Moonlight bathed the paths in silver, and as she strolled further, she stumbled upon a serene lake, its surface rippling gently in the breeze. The sight tugged at her heart—memories of her village, of dancing under the stars with her mother, flooded her mind.
Moved by the moment, Mariela twirled barefoot on the soft grass, her long dress sweeping the air. Her laughter faded into quiet tears as her emotions swelled.
From a distance, Prince Richard had just returned from patrol when he spotted her. Captivated by her graceful movements and the way the moonlight kissed her hair, he remained hidden for a moment, spellbound. But when she stumbled, he rushed forward.
"Mariela!" he called, concern in his voice.
Startled, she turned, hastily wiping her tears. "Prince Richard! What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same," he said, approaching slowly. "Are you hurt? You were crying."
She forced a smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. Everything's fine, I promise."
"There's no need for formality," he said gently. "We've already met. Just speak to me like you did before."
She hesitated. "I'd like to apologize for my earlier behavior. I was too forward—too rude. Please don't let that reflect badly on my father. He tried his best to raise me right, but… I suppose I'm too stubborn for my own good."
To her surprise, Richard laughed heartily.
"You're funny, you know that?" he said. "And honest. I like that. It means you stand up for what you believe in. That's a strength, not a flaw. And I can see how much your father means to you. He's raised someone special."
Her cheeks flushed at his kind words. "Thank you."
Richard's expression grew a little more serious. "I know we're asking a lot. Even with compensation, it means taking you from your home, from your family, and possibly delaying your dreams."
Before she could answer, he offered his hand.
"Come. There's something I want to show you."
They walked in silence until they reached the palace greenhouse. When Richard opened the doors, Mariela gasped.
Rows upon rows of rare and vibrant plants stretched before her—flora from every region of the kingdom, cultivated with care and displayed in breathtaking symmetry.
"There's no way…" she whispered, stepping inside. "This plant—I saw it in a book! And that one! Do you know what I could do with these?"
She darted from one display to another, her excitement bubbling over. "The North Rose and East Rose look similar, but they react differently. Watch—touch the North, and it closes its petals to sleep. The East? It opens even wider. See?"
Richard chuckled as he watched her glow with passion.
"There was this girl—Charlot," she continued, "who got the gatekeeper head-over-heels just from the scent of this one. It's strong, but… oh no, I'm rambling, aren't I?"
She looked up, embarrassed, but he only smiled.
"I don't mind. I'm glad you feel free enough to speak that way around me."
Her blush deepened, and she lowered her gaze. The moment lingered in gentle stillness.
Finally, Richard said softly, "It's getting late. Let me walk you back."
At the guest inn, he turned to her.
"Thank you for tonight. I hope you'll visit the greenhouse again soon. And let me know your decision. I'll be waiting."
She nodded. "I will. Good night, Prince Richard."
As he left, Gideon stepped out of the shadows, having seen them return together. His expression unreadable, he watched the prince walk away, his gaze lingering on Mariela.
Something had shifted. And he knew it.