Chapter 96: The Delegation

—CELIA—

A pair of elven attendants carefully adjusted the folds of my gown one last time before stepping back to admire their work.

The dress was unlike the revealing wedding gown I had woken up wearing days ago.

This one was elegant.

Layers of pristine white silk cascaded to the floor like flowing water, embroidered with silver vines that shimmered whenever they caught the light. The sleeves draped gracefully over my arms, while delicate moonstone ornaments decorated my waist and shoulders.

It was beautiful.

"My Lady."

An attendant approached carrying something wrapped carefully in velvet.

She unfolded a translucent white mask crafted from enchanted silk.

It covered only the lower half of my face.

Soft enough that I could breathe and speak comfortably, but thin enough that it almost disappeared beneath the light.

Yet it concealed my identity perfectly.

I accepted it silently.

When I secured it over my face, the woman smiled with satisfaction before bowing.

"His Majesty awaits."

I nodded.

The walk toward the throne room felt strangely endless.

Every servant we passed immediately lowered their heads.

Every knight struck their chest in salute.

Every noble stepped aside without daring to meet my eyes.

Not because of me, but because of the man walking beside me.

Aelith.

He wore his royal attire today.

His elegant black cloak embroidered with silver thread rested across his shoulders. The crown atop his head wasn’t overly extravagant, yet somehow it suited him perfectly.

He looked every bit the king he had become.

As we approached the enormous golden doors, he slowed slightly before glancing at me.

"Nervous?"

I laughed weakly.

"Shouldn’t I be?"

"You are merely attending today’s audience."

He offered me a reassuring smile.

"I promised you."

"I know."

"You also promised to trust me."

His words lingered inside my chest.

After a brief hesitation...

I nodded.

The corners of his lips lifted gently.

"Good."

The doors slowly opened and an enormous hall unfolded before me.

The throne room was unlike anything I had ever imagined.

White marble stretched endlessly beneath our feet while towering silver pillars supported a ceiling painted with ancient constellations that glowed softly through magic. Massive crystal chandeliers floated overhead without chains, illuminating the chamber with warm golden light.

Rows upon rows of elven nobles filled both sides of the hall.

At the far end stood two magnificent thrones.

One carved from white crystal and the other from polished silver.

Aelith naturally walked toward the larger throne.

To my complete embarrassment...

The attendants guided me toward the second.

"...Do I really have to sit there?" I whispered.

Aelith leaned closer just enough that only I could hear.

"If you stand beside me, every noble in this room will spend the entire meeting staring at you."

"...And sitting won’t?"

"They’ll only stare slightly less."

"...That’s not comforting."

"It wasn’t meant to be."

I sighed before I carefully lowered myself onto the smaller throne.

The fabric of my dress spread elegantly across the polished steps while the sheer white veil over my face hid the nervous bite of my lip.

From here...

I could see the entire throne room.

And more importantly...

The massive entrance doors.

Everything suddenly became silent.

One by one...

The nobles stood.

I didn’t know what was happening until the gigantic doors burst open. The sound thundered across the chamber as several nobles visibly flinched.

My heart stopped.

Four familiar figures strode into the throne room without the slightest hesitation.

The heavy doors had barely finished opening when every conversation inside the hall died completely.

It wasn’t simply because four humans had entered the heart of the Elven Kingdom.

It was because the four men walking through those doors carried themselves like people who had already accepted death before stepping inside.

Sebastian entered first, every inch of him dressed in immaculate noble attire befitting the Duke of Blackwood. His expression remained as composed as ever, yet there was a terrifying coldness in his eyes that I had never witnessed before.

His gaze swept across the chamber only once, missing nothing, studying every guard, every exit, every possible threat.

Beside him walked Ezekiel.

Unlike his usual elegant indifference, there was nothing relaxed about him today. The hem of his dark robes brushed across the marble floor while faint currents of mana distorted the air around him, so dense that even the magical lanterns above flickered uneasily. His jaw remained tightly set, and although his face appeared calm, the terrifying pressure leaking from him made several elven mages instinctively step backward.

Sir Matthias followed closely behind.

His polished armor reflected the crystal lights overhead, every movement precise and disciplined as always. One hand rested naturally upon the hilt of his sword, but I knew that posture all too well.

It was the stance he took whenever he was prepared to kill.

Then...

...my eyes landed on the last person.

Ren.

For one suspended moment...

I forgot how to breathe.

No...

It was not Ren.

At least...

...not the Ren I knew.

Gone were the plain servant’s clothes that always seemed just a little too worn from following me everywhere. Gone was the young man who carried baskets full of groceries while grumbling under his breath, who complained whenever I volunteered him for ridiculous errands, who somehow always ended up cleaning the messes I created.

The man standing before me now looked as though he had stepped out of a royal portrait.

His formal military uniform had been tailored flawlessly, black fabric embroidered with silver and crimson patterns that shimmered beneath the crystal chandeliers. A ceremonial cloak rested proudly across his broad shoulders, lined with rich crimson silk that contrasted sharply against the black.

Everything about him radiated authority, strength, and nobility.

Even the way he stood had changed.

His posture remained straight, his chin slightly raised, every movement carrying the confidence of someone who had been born to command.

And then...

My eyes fell upon the clasp fastening his cloak.

Gold was engraved on it, fecorated with a familiar crest.

My heartbeat faltered.

No...Surely...

"...Ren?"

The name escaped my lips before I realized I had spoken aloud.

So quietly...

So desperately...

But he never heard me.

Or perhaps...

He couldn’t.

His dark, sharp eyes swept across the throne room with urgency, searching every corner, every shadow, every face.

He wasn’t looking for Aelith.

He was looking for Aria.

That realization struck me with such force that my fingers instinctively gripped the armrest of my throne.

His eyes passed over me without stopping.

But I know to him...

I was nothing more than another unknown woman seated beside the former crown prince and now Elven King.

The warmth I had always associated with those dark eyes was gone.

In its place remained only desperation.

When his gaze finally settled upon Aelith...

The entire throne room seemed to freeze.

"Where is she?!"

The words exploded through the chamber like thunder.

They echoed violently against the marble walls, startling nobles and attendants alike.

Several ladies gasped and a few servants instinctively lowered themselves to one knee.

Even the elven soldiers lining the hall unconsciously tightened their grip around their spears.

Near the center of the throne room, Aria visibly flinched beneath the sheer intensity of his voice.

I had never...

...heard Ren sound like that.

Not once.

Not during arguments.

Not even during the countless moments he had risked his own life protecting mine.

There was something almost heartbreaking hidden beneath his anger.

The voice of someone who had searched until there was nothing left to search.

Someone who had already accepted the possibility that he might never see the person he loved again...

...yet still came anyway.

Something inside my chest cracked.

Ren...

Aelith remained perfectly composed beside me.

He rested one elbow lazily against the arm of his throne, watching the four men with amused curiosity, as though their fury was little more than an entertaining performance arranged for his benefit.

A slow chuckle escaped him.

"So..."

His voice carried effortlessly throughout the hall.

"You finally decided to reveal yourself."

None of the four men answered immediately.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

Ezekiel’s mana surged another degree.

Sir Matthias subtly shifted one foot forward.

Only Ren remained completely still.

Aelith’s emerald gaze settled upon him as a faint smile curved his lips.

"Damien Ashford..."

The throne room fell utterly silent.

"...the runaway Crown Prince of the Ashbourne Empire."

Time...

Stopped.

My entire body went rigid.

I slowly turned my head toward Ren, convinced I had somehow misheard what had just been said.

No...

No.

That couldn’t possibly...

My eyes widened as I stared at the man I had known.

The man who had cooked breakfast for me.

Who had followed me everywhere.

Who had quietly stood behind me through every impossible decision.

Who had confessed to me with trembling hands.

Who had smiled every time I succeeded.

Who had looked at me as though I was his entire world.

Ren...

No...

Damien...

Ashford?

The name echoed endlessly inside my head.

Everything suddenly began making terrifying sense.

His swordsmanship.

His education.

His flawless etiquette whenever nobles were present.

The ease with which he commanded soldiers.

Even the strange familiarity he seemed to have with everyone despite believing him to be an ordinary servant.

How had I never questioned it?

How had I been so blind?

My gaze darted toward the imperial crest gleaming proudly upon his chest before returning to his face.

He looked exactly the same.

And yet...

Everything had changed.

My heartbeat pounded violently against my ribs.

"...Ren..."

The whisper barely left my lips.

"...You’re... the Crown Prince?"