Chapter 288: Worthy of his true caliber
"Your Grace, I heard you were looking for me," Eilika said, stepping gracefully into the chamber.
"Yes. The King sent a missive. Everything is well under control, and he urged me not to worry," Damian informed her, extending his arms as his valet helped him into a heavy navy blue overcoat.
"That is wonderful news," Eilika breathed, visibly relieved.
Damian dismissed the valet with a slight gesture. The man bowed low and withdrew at once, closing the heavy wooden doors behind him.
Walking over to Eilika, Damian continued, "Now we can travel north without any lingering anxiety. We ought to set off earlier than the planned evening hour—our route takes us directly through the dense forest, and it is far safer to clear those roads before dusk falls."
"How soon shall we depart then?" Eilika asked.
"An hour after taking our afternoon meal," Damian replied. "We will use the motorcar for the journey; it will shorten our travel time considerably. The Northern territory is quite distant, so we will only reach its outskirts by midnight. We shall need to rest at a guesthouse along the way, though preparations have already been made for our stay."
"Very well. I will see to it that food is packed for our evening travel. We ought not to eat at roadside inns—especially you. Your stomach is easily upset," Eilika advised gently.
"As you wish," Damian conceded. "Direct the kitchen staff to prepare the meals for our journey."
As she turned to leave, he reached out and gently caught her wrist, halting her steps.
"What is it?" Eilika asked, arching her eyebrows in surprise.
"Louis will extend his help to your father. I have already given him strict instructions regarding the matter," Damian stated smoothly. "I believe your father has learned enough of his lesson by now. After all, it was Liliana’s underhanded schemes that caused so many merchants to suffer in the first place."
He lowered his eyes, a sudden weight of remorse pressing upon him. "Once we return from the North, I will ensure every family and merchant who suffered losses receives full compensation. As for the remaining matters, I intend to expand our commercial enterprises to restore our revenue and strengthen our profits."
"Hm. I trust you will not let the people suffer," Eilika replied, offering him a gentle smile. "I must excuse myself now. I gave Roman a small task on the balcony, and he will be eagerly waiting to show me his progress."
"Of course. Go ahead," Damian replied softly. "I shall see you at the breakfast table."
Eilika hummed in agreement, offering him a slight bow before stepping out of the chamber.
~~~~
"Father, why didn’t you tell August the truth?" Ciaran asked after dismissing the servants from the private hall. "Sylvian told me that August doesn’t know that his mother was—"
"Some truths are better left buried. What good will it bring if I tell August the truth? The present cannot be changed. Besides, I never intended to share it with either of you had your mother not provoked me. So, Ciaran, let the truth remain buried. His fate will not change even if I tell him what I once desired," King Nyxen answered. Leaning forward on the sofa, he picked up the smoldering cigarillo and brought it to his lips.
"Father, do not smoke. It will ruin your health," Ciaran stated, lowering himself into a nearby chair. "If you have decided not to tell August, then I shall not bring it up to him either."
"Yes, that is for the best," Nyxen agreed. He did not extinguish the cigarillo, taking another slow draw before setting it down upon the silver ashtray. Exhaling a thin stream of smoke, he turned his focus back to his son. "What else weighs upon your mind?"
"The sheer speed with which our lives have unraveled," Ciaran admitted, leaning forward. "I spent my entire life striving to meet my mother’s expectations, believing she was a woman defined by quiet sacrifice. Now, everything I believed has been upended. How are you enduring all of this, Father? You must be profoundly shaken. Yesterday in the council chamber, you seemed entirely unlike yourself. The burden of these revelations, and perhaps the lingering guilt of failing to protect August’s mother, must be taking an immense toll on you."
Nyxen offered his eldest son a faint, solemn smile. "You have always shown a remarkable degree of empathy toward me, Ciaran. Even as a child, your temperament was far more measured and mature than most," he said softly. He rested his hands on the armrests of his seat before continuing. "Regrets are an inevitable burden of the crown, but I cannot allow them to consume the remainder of my reign. I simply require time to process these events and chart our course forward."
"Very well, Father. Take all the time you need," Ciaran said softly. "But remember that you are not alone in this. Sylvian and I are beside you, as we have always been."
"I know," Nyxen replied.
"Father, there is one more matter troubling me," Ciaran continued, his brow furrowing slightly. "You designated Sylvian to inherit the Duchy of the Western Province. Do you not worry that August will perceive this as favoritism?"
"I have entirely different plans for August," Nyxen stated coldly. "Though I expect he is fuming with rage at this moment, having undoubtedly heard of the arrangement by now."
"Even so, Father, August is a capable prince in his own right, perhaps even more formidable than either of us," Ciaran countered. "He survived years in exile, far removed from the court, yet returned undeterred."
"I am well aware," Nyxen replied. "He possesses far more worldly experience than anyone else in this palace. However, he must still earn the trust of the high court. Many of the ministers still view him with suspicion, branding him a troublemaker. That is precisely why I sent him to Varos. Damian and Eilika are among the very few whose counsel he actually heeds. I intend for him to learn under their influence. When the proper time comes, he will be granted a title worthy of his true caliber."
Ciaran nodded in understanding just as Thomas knocked twice on the heavy wooden door before stepping into the room.
"Your Highness, a message has just arrived for you from the Crown Princess," Thomas announced with a bow.
"Father, I shall take my leave now," Ciaran said, rising to his feet. Bowing respectfully to the King, he departed the hall, leaving Nyxen behind in deep contemplation.
~~~~~
Sylvian stood in silence, his gaze lingering on the canvas Iliana had bestowed upon him. "I wonder if she will even deign to attend the exhibition," he mused softly to himself.
"I shall send a carriage for her, of course, yet I cannot force her hand. I suppose I must leave it to destiny to reveal whether the woman I desire holds the same longing for me."
With a quiet sigh, he carefully returned the painting to its rightful place.
Securing the lock in his private gallery, Sylvian locked it from the outside and turned to leave, only to find a palace servant approaching him.
"Your Highness, a missive has just arrived from Varos," she reported, offering a low bow.
Sylvian took the sealed scroll from her hands and broke the wax seal. As his eyes scanned the letter, written in Eilika’s distinct handwriting, a smile touched his lips. Rolling the parchment back up, he turned toward his private quarters, only to encounter Ciaran in the corridor.
"Brother, are you heading out?" Sylvian asked, pausing.
"Yes. The time has come for the Crown Princess to return, and I am heading out to escort her back from her father’s estate personally," Ciaran replied. Noticing the scroll held loosely in Sylvian’s grip, he added, "Is there something you wished to discuss?"
"Not at all, Brother. It is a letter from Eilika," Sylvian replied smoothly, glancing down at the parchment. "During my previous time in Varos, she became a rather dear friend."
"I see. Well, I must be off then. The Crown Princess will be quite displeased if I keep her waiting any longer," Ciaran remarked, a fond, amused smile lightening his features.
"Of course, Brother. Have a safe journey." Sylvian offered a respectful bow, straightening only as the Crown Prince strode past him down the corridor, followed closely by his personal knight.
Reaching his chamber, Sylvian slid the scroll into his desk drawer and lowered himself onto the recliner.
"I never expected my life to alter so drastically," Sylvian murmured into the quiet room, staring up at the grand ceiling. "Soon, I will be a Duke. I shall have an entire territory and its people relying upon me. I always believed I could live a carefree life, unburdened by duty, yet I forgot that I was born a Prince. I cannot cast off this responsibility, no matter how deeply I might desire to."
He let out a long sigh before leaning back and closing his eyes.