Chapter 913: Alternate Timeline: At Celestra (1)
After nearly six hours of travel, Kiara’s armored vehicle entered the borders of Celestra.
At the royal palace, the kitchens bustled with controlled chaos.
Servants moved like ants carrying precious cargo, silver platters and crystal goblets glinting under the afternoon light.
In a private dining chamber, King Caleb sat with Prime Minister Philip, though the king’s patience was thinning by the minute.
He glanced at his pocket watch and frowned.
"It is almost one o’clock," he said, his voice edged with irritation. "Are you certain she is coming?"
Earlier, Philip had spoken with unwavering confidence.
Now, however, even he felt the first cold fingers of doubt.
Still, retreat was no longer an option.
"Our spies confirmed that Miss Kiara left the Imperial City five hours ago," he said carefully. "They also reported that she traveled in a strange metal vehicle whose speed surpassed our finest horses several times over. If she has not yet arrived, then she should be here at any moment."
The king narrowed his eyes.
"I hope this meeting proves worth the delay, Prime Minister. If what you have presented to me turns out to be smoke without fire, you already know the consequences."
Philip bowed his head.
"That much, Your Majesty, I understand."
Inwardly, his pulse quickened.
He knew the king well.
Years ago, Caleb had been a kind and generous ruler.
But after surviving a military coup and losing the former prime minister, the king had become more guarded, more severe, and far less forgiving.
And Philip had wagered much on this meeting.
If Kiara lived up to his claims, his standing would rise like a falcon on a warm current.
If not, he might discover how quickly that same falcon could become prey.
Elsewhere in the palace, Prince Gideon stood before a tall mirror while attendants helped him change.
"Well?" Prince Gideon asked, turning to them. "How do I look?"
One maid, who had repeated the same praise for the last half hour, smiled dutifully.
"You look absolutely handsome, Your Highness. Lady Kiara will appreciate it."
The second maid nodded with visible fatigue but added the praise. "Your Highness is, after all, the most charming figure in the entire Celestra kingdom, the disciple of the Aryavarta Empire’s Great Sage Agastya, and a 5-star rank Spirit Warrior. Whatever you wear will be perfect."
Gideon studied his reflection, then put on white gloves, and smiled.
"I think this one matches the attire."
Then one of the maids, hesitating for a moment, asked, "My apologies, Your Highness, but... is she not a commoner?"
Gideon’s expression changed instantly, his head snapped to the side and stare at her.
The instant his expression changed, she paled and bowed deeply.
"My apologies, Your Highness."
Gideon turned to face her.
To the maid’s surprise, the prince only smiled.
"It is all right, Isabella."
His voice was gentle, but each word carried the weight of carefully considered truth.
"Respect is not inherited like a sword passed from father to son. It is forged through actions. A crown without virtue is only metal, and a beggar with character may carry more dignity than a king."
He moved toward the window and stared at the horizon, his hands to the back as he continued.
"Thousands of years ago, our ancestors were farmers, commoners. They tilled the earth with their own hands. Today, their descendants rule kingdoms. Why? Because they earned the trust of others through strength, wisdom, and service."
He turned back toward his maids.
"No king created the land beneath his feet. We merely govern it for a time, as caretakers rather than owners. If rulers become arrogant and forget that duty, then their fall is only a matter of time."
Gideon’s eyes softened, though his gaze remained piercing.
"So I do not care whether Lady Kiara was born in a palace or in a village. What matters is who she is when no one is watching."
He paused, then added with a knowing smile, "And one more thing. Do not offer me empty praise simply to protect your position. Sweet words without sincerity are like painted fruit. They may look pleasing, but they nourish nothing."
The two maids stiffened, realizing that their polite exaggerations had not gone unnoticed.
Gideon returned to the mirror, adjusting his collar.
"Now," He said lightly, "tell me honestly. Does this dress suit me, or do I look as though I am trying too hard?"
This time, the maids answered with far greater care.
*
Time: 3:45 P.M., Royal Moon Palace, Lunaris City
A late lunch was underway in one of the grand dining chambers of the Royal Moon Palace, yet despite the long table groaning beneath the weight of delicacies, the atmosphere felt less like a family meal and more like a court awaiting the reading of a sentence.
Seated around the polished moonwood table were King Caleb Crescent, Queen Penelope, Prince Gideon, their nephew who had lost his parents nearly twenty years ago, Prime Minister Philip, and one of the kingdom’s most trusted generals. Golden platters overflowed with roasted meats glazed in fragrant sauces, silver bowls held steaming soups rich with herbs, and crystal dishes glittered with fruits imported from distant lands. Any outsider would have thought this was a feast fit for celebration.
And yet, with the exception of the king’s nephew, no one appeared to be enjoying the meal.
It’s because Kiara is still not here. They delayed their lunch for two hours, especially for her arrival, and yet, the afternoon is almost about to end, yet, the guest of honor isn’t here.
At the far end of the table, Philip sat with his back straight and his smile frozen into a brittle mask. Beads of sweat had gathered along his temples and slid slowly down the sides of his face. He kept stealing nervous glances at King Caleb, whose expression remained perfectly calm.
That calm was what frightened him most.
Philip wanted to speak. He wanted to assure the king that his gamble had not been in vain.
But every time he opened his mouth, fear tightened around his throat like an invisible hand.
At the same time, he prayed inwardly that one of his spies would send word that Kiara had entered the city.
Prince Gideon was the first to set down his utensils.
The faint chime of silver against porcelain drew everyone’s attention.
He dabbed the corner of his lips with a silk napkin and rose elegantly from his seat.
"I will return to my room, Your Majesty."
King Caleb gave a slight nod.
No further words were exchanged.
Gideon bowed and departed.
As he walked back to his chambers, disappointment settled over him like a cloak. He had been looking forward to meeting this wonderful lady, whom he heard was a great beauty, fearless, with a mysterious background, and powerful enough for even Emperor Alexander to act nicely with her.
But Kiara didn’t arrive for the supposed luncheon at all.
One by one, the others excused themselves as well.
First, the king’s nephew.
Then the general.
Then Queen Penelope.
Ordinarily, they would have remained seated until the king himself finished eating. But today, each had been quietly instructed to leave once they were done.
Soon, only two men remained at the vast table.
King Caleb Crescent.
And Prime Minister Philip.
The king continued eating with unhurried dignity, as though he were not in the least troubled by the events of the day.
Philip sat stiffly, waiting.
He knew the punishment was coming.
He simply did not know in what form.
When the king finally placed his utensils aside and reached for his goblet, Philip rose at once and bowed deeply.
"Your Majesty, if you permit, I will take my leave."
King Caleb looked up at him.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"Where are you going, Prime Minister?"
Philip blinked. "Your Majesty?"
The king gestured toward the table. "There is still a great deal of food left."
Philip followed his gaze.
The platters were still laden with enough food to satisfy a hundred people.
King Caleb folded his hands before him and spoke with a serenity that felt sharper than anger.
"Our cooks have labored since dawn. To waste their efforts would be disrespectful. Finish everything, and then you may leave."