Luren had grown comfortable living in the Duke's mansion. A month had passed, and he had become familiar with his duties as the Duke's assistant.
Every morning, they sparred together, a routine that had brought them closer than
either expected.
That morning, as the maids carefully arranged the Duke's clothes, Luren stood
quietly nearby, stealing glances at Craige.
"Are you leaving for the palace?" he asked, his voice soft but curious.
"Yes. Do you want to come with me?" Craige turned to him with a slight smile, his gaze
steady and inviting.
Luren's eyes lit up. A smile tugged at his lips, he had never been to the royal palace before.
"Can I really go with you?" he asked, almost like a child receiving a long-awaited gift.
Craige nodded. "Of course. I'm sure the King will be curious about you."
"The King?" Luren echoed, blinking in surprise. He must look like the Duke...they're brothers after all.
Before he could ask more, Keith entered the room, giving a respectful bow.
"The carriage is ready, Your Grace. We should depart now."
Luren's heart fluttered with excitement and a touch of nervousness. He was about to
enter a world he had only heard of… the royal palace.
---
"I greet His Majesty, whose brilliance warms the empire," they said in unison, bowing
low before the King.
"It's good to see you, brother," the King said with a warm smile. His gaze shifted. "You
must be Prince Luren Kaile Elarion."
"Yes, Your Majesty," Luren replied nervously. "But… if I may, I'd prefer if you just called me Luren."
The King's smile deepened. Though his face was kind and inviting, there was an
unmistakable air of authority around him, one that made Luren's heart race slightly. Yet beside him, Duke Craige remained completely at ease, unbothered by the King's commanding presence.
"I wanted to inform you that I'll be returning to the North after the Midnight Ball," Craige said. "Barbarians and bandits have been seen near the borders, attacking and pillaging villages."
"Thank you, brother. Then I shall gift you a bouquet of beautiful flowers as a farewell,"
the King said with a playful smirk.
"I will gladly accept your gift, my King," Craige replied with a knowing smirk of his
own.
Luren watched the exchange in silence, not quite understanding the strange dynamic
between the two brothers.
"I would love to chat more, but the nobles are waiting for me in the council chamber,"
the King said, rubbing his forehead as if already weary of the meeting ahead.
Then he turned to his brother. "Bring Luren to the Midnight Ball."
The Duke nodded in acknowledgment before turning to leave.
"You may walk around the palace freely," Craige said to Luren. "I'll be at the meeting
hall."
Keith was already waiting outside. Craige joined him, and the two disappeared down the corridor.
Now alone, Luren hesitated. The palace was massive, unfamiliar, and filled with strangers.
He stood awkwardly in the grand hall, unsure of which direction to go, when suddenly, something bumped against his legs.
Startled, he looked down and saw a small child sitting on the floor, clutching his knees.
The boy couldn't have been older than three, yet he didn't cry, he just stared
up at Luren with wide, surprised eyes.
"Oh—I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Luren crouched down immediately, concern washing over his features. His voice softened as he gently checked the boy's arms. "Did I hurt you?"
The child blinked, then slowly shook his head.
Luren smiled with relief. "You're a brave little one," he said kindly, offering his hand.
The boy stared at it for a moment before cautiously reaching out.
"What's your name?" he asked gently, smiling at the adorable child in front of him. The boy had striking blue eyes, surely a mark of noble blood. The King had gray eyes, just like the Duke, but this little one was different.
"Claren," the boy replied, his voice soft and innocent as he reached out to hold his
hand.
"Can we go to the fond? I want to see fwog," he said, mispronouncing pond and frog so
sweetly that it melted his heart.
He almost couldn't resist the urge to pinch those chubby cheeks, but he managed to hold back, simply chuckling instead.
"Okay, let's go," he said warmly, squeezing the boy's small hand as they walked together.
They had been at the pond for nearly half a day, blissfully unaware of the rising commotion within the palace walls.
Claren laughed joyfully as he chased frogs and butterflies, his laughter echoing
through the peaceful clearing. This place felt like a hidden paradise, far away
from the stiff rules and noise of the palace.
Meanwhile, inside the palace, panic had taken root.
"My Queen, we can't find the Prince!" a maid cried breathlessly as she ran through the
hallways, followed closely by a butler, both clearly distressed.
Craige, hearing the chaos outside the meeting hall, rushed out. "What's going on, Queen Lariana?" he asked, alarmed.
"The Prince... he's been missing for half a day," Lariana replied, her voice tight
with anxiety. "What if Marga had something to do with it? If only the King didn't have that harem"
Her voice faltered, regret in her eyes.
Marga was the head of the King's harem, housed in the East Palace. Though it was far from the main palace, worry gnawed at her heart.
Craige frowned, shaking his head. No... the East Palace is too far. The Prince wouldn't wander there... would he?
The King, bound by politics, couldn't simply dissolve the harem. Though he had never
taken a concubine, the daughters of noble houses were still placed under his
care kept for alliances and appearances. His loyalty had always remained with
the Queen.
"You know the King can't just dismiss them yet," Craige muttered gently.
"I know," Queen Lariana said, her shoulders sagging with guilt. "I shouldn't have said that."
Craige turned to his right hand man "Keith, gather the guards. Search the entire
palace. Find the Prince and Luren, too."
"Yes, Your Grace!" Keith responded, bowing quickly before hurrying off.
"I'll check the Empress Palace. Perhaps he wandered there by accident," Craige said.
"I'm coming with you," the Queen insisted, joining him with several maids in tow.
The Empress Palace had been locked ever since the death of the former King and Queen. No one dared to venture near it anymore, though it was still carefully preserved, a solemn, sacred place in the palace grounds.
Now, with dread creeping into every heart, its silent halls were about to be disturbed
once more.
"Lulen, my shoe has dwifted," Claren said, pointing at the floating shoe in the pond. He
still couldn't quite pronounce Luren's name properly.
Without hesitation, Luren jumped into the pond, the cold water reaching up to his
chest. He waded through quickly, grabbed the tiny shoe, and made his way back
to the edge. Dripping wet, he knelt in front of Claren, ready to help him put it back on.
But just as he reached out, a sudden shove sent him stumbling onto the muddy ground.
"Get away from my child!" a woman's sharp voice rang out. She rushed forward, scooping Claren into her arms, holding him tightly against her chest.
Luren was frozen in place, his hands still trembling, not from the cold, but from shock.
He didn't know what to do or say.
"My Queen! Prince Claren!" the maid's panicked voice broke through the tension.
"Luren!?" another voice called out, stronger, deeper, familiar.
Luren looked up to see the duke running toward him. A wave of relief washed over him
the moment their eyes met and he saw the worry etched on Craige's face.
"Your Grace…" Luren said softly, almost like a whisper.
Craige didn't answer right away. Instead, he removed his cloak and draped it over
Luren's soaked shoulders with gentle care, shielding him from the chill.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice tight with concern as his hand briefly brushed
Luren's damp hair.
"Lulen is not a bad guy! He played with me!" Claren shouted, his voice trembling as tears
welled in his eyes. He struggled in the Queen's embrace, desperate to break free.
"I'm sorry," the Queen said softly, guilt flashing in her eyes as she looked at both
Luren and Craige.
Luren offered a small, reassuring smile and nodded politely. He stood quietly, facing
the Queen. Claren was indeed the Prince, the striking blue of his eyes clearly came from his mother.
"Let's return to the main palace," Craige announced, his voice calm but firm. He
turned to a maid nearby. "Inform Keith and the others that Prince Claren is safe."
The maid bowed quickly and rushed off to deliver the message.
Craige turned to Luren, his expression softening. "Are you alright?"
Luren gave a small nod. "Yes," he murmured.
As they walked together toward the main palace, Craige's arm wrapped gently around
Luren's shoulders. Luren stiffened for a brief moment, fully aware of the warmth of the Duke's touch, but Craige didn't seem to mind, his grip protective and steady. Luren's heart fluttered, confused by the comfort he found in it.
Once everything was settled, they returned to the Duke's mansion. Luren changed into
the Duke's spare clothes in one of the guestrooms Craige used whenever he
stayed at the palace.
Alone in the room, Luren secretly brought the fabric close to his nose, breathing in the
lingering scent. It smelled like Craige..clean, warm, and comforting. His chest tightened, his heart fluttering from something he couldn't name.
"Sleep, we've still got a long way to go," a voice broke his thoughts.
Luren flinched slightly, surprised to feel the Duke resting his head on his shoulder.
They were already in the carriage on the way back.
His thoughts spun again. Home.
Was that what this was now? The Duke's mansion… had started to feel like home.
I must be going crazy, he thought, cheeks warming.
"Baby brother, what are you thinking about?" Craige teased with a soft chuckle. "Just
close your eyes."
Luren bit his lip, trying to suppress a shy smile as he let his eyes drift shut, warmth
blooming in his chest.