7pm - Grinrelis:

  Despite a night sky dotted with stars, the streets of Ingrissia were still buzzing with life. The city was alive with a grand festival, for today marked the first public appearance of the second prince of the kingdom... Lucas Ashir Ingriss.

  In these busy streets, Naxthor's procession advanced with a calculated cadence.

  The horses' hooves hammered the pavement, punctuated by the metallic rattling of the armor. The black-and-white imperial carriage moved forward with majesty, escorted by imperial knights, dressed in black armor, who opened the march. Their banners struck with the symbol of the black eagle slammed in the air, imposing silence on every passerby.

  Inside the carriage, bearing the empire's coat of arms, two figures sat facing each other.

  On the main bench stood Prince Arvid Von Lorthen, fourth prince of the empire. His perfectly combed black hair framed his deep black eyes, which gleamed with pride beneath the starlight. He wore a military uniform entirely in black, adorned with subtle purple accents. A black cape fell over his shoulder, accentuating the natural authority that emanated from him.

  He looked at the city through the window of the carriage, his lips stretched into a haughty sneer.

  "Tch... look at these fucking Ingrissians," he whispered.

  Sitting in front of him, Princess élyna Von Lorthen listened to him without a word. The eight-year-old girl, however, shone like a fragile pearl in the middle of the shadows. His long black hair framed his delicate face, and his black eyes shone with innocence. Her purple dress adorned with thin ribbons, brought out her natural beauty. She wore her dress gracefully, her hands wisely placed on her knees.

  Elyna tilted her head slightly, her soft voice breaking the silence.

  "Tell me, big brother… do you think the second prince of Ingrissia will be nice to me?" She asked in a shy tone.

  "This is the first time I've met someone my age... so I'd like to make a good impression," she added in a slightly embarrassed tone.

  Arvid slowly turned his head towards her, his icy gaze contrasting with the candor of the princess. A smirk appeared on his lips.

  "Nice? ..." he said, snickering slightly.

  "Listen carefully, bastard... no prince is kind for no reason, there is always a goal behind every action. If he wants to hope to reign one day, he must be manipulative and icy. Remember it," he said in an icy tone.

  The intimidated girl looked down, grinding the fabric of her dress. However, a small spark of enthusiasm remained in her eyes, as if she refused to believe her brother's cold words.

  Outside, the procession was already approaching the high doors of the royal estate of Ingrissia. The imperial knights released their vigilance, and the wheels of the carriage slowed down.

  Arvid crossed his arms, an arrogant smile on his lips.

  "I can't wait to see what this second prince looks like. "

  At the same time - at the Royal Palace:

  Beneath a vast white veranda, delicately sculpted, the soft lantern light swayed with the night breeze. The scent of lilies and roses floated in the air, carried by the breeze. All around, the royal gardens stretched out like a sea of greenery illuminated by the stars.

  Sitting around a white round table, Rapha?l and Arianne were chatting while enjoying tea.

  Raphael, always imposing, wore a white jacket, embroidered with gold thread with majestic motifs, which fit perfectly across his broad shoulders. A white and golden scarf crossed his torso, fixed by a brooch where a red gem shone similar to a fiery ember. His immaculate gloves placed calmly on the table, he did not need any gesture to impose his authority: it was enough to see him sitting there to understand that he was king.

  Arianne, for her part, wore a white dress dotted with golden embroidery, which perfectly married her shapes with grace. Her shoulders were covered with a delicately embroidered transparent veil, held by golden jewels inlaid with scarlet stones. Around her neck, a finely wrought necklace shimmered, whose purple gem seemed to capture the surrounding light.

  In the distance, the muffled noises of the banquet were already resounding: music, bursts of voices, clinking of cups. The reception that had just begun was already in full swing, but here, under the veranda, the royal family was enjoying a moment of calm.

  But this calm was broken by approaching measured steps.

  Dayvon approached while crossing the small flower-lined alley. He was dressed in a black jacket trimmed with gold threads, belted with a silver sash, with a black cape falling over his left shoulder and barely touching the ground.

  Arriving in front of his parents, he bowed slightly.

  "I salute the sun of the kingdom and the mother of the people," he said in a clear and confident voice.

  Rapha?l and Arianne looked up, a smile on their lips.

  "Rise... my son," replied Arianne smiling.

  Rapha?l, with a smile on his lips, says calmly:

  "Come closer, son, and come sit with us. It's been a long time since we shared tea together."

  Dayvon approached and settled into an empty seat around the table. Arianne served him with a tender gesture, placing a steaming cup in front of him. For a moment, he observed the amber liquid, as if he were gathering his thoughts.

  Raphael took a sip from his cup of tea, then rested it elegantly, before breaking the silence.

  "So son... you can tell us how the last seven years have gone for you, as well as your stay at the academy," he said in a calm tone.

  Dayvon straightened his back and spoke in a respectful tone:

  "My stay at the academy helped me a lot. I maintained the honor of the royal family by being first in my promotion despite my weak martial qualities. In recent years, I have greatly improved my strategic and political skills. "

  "This year during a mission in the city of Drelmar, I managed to dismantle several clandestine groups by circulating several false information, in order to exploit their own rivalries so that they would kill each other. And in the city of Selvar, with a group of students under my orders, we managed to annihilate the pirate group that sowed terror among our civilians and businesses. "

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  He paused, then looked up, his gaze shining with a cold intelligence.

  "I may not have inherited your martial abilities, Father. But I learned that war is not won just with weapons. So I am sure that my thinking skills will be of great help to our kingdom... as well as to the Ingriss family," he said in a calm voice full of confidence.

  A silence settled, troubled only by the singing of crickets and the whisper of the wind.

  Raphael stared at his son with a tender and satisfied look.

  "Good job son... despite your difficulties, you managed to show me your originality and accomplish feats," he says in a calm voice.

  Arianne sketched a smile, her eyes veiling with a maternal glow.

  "Well done.... you make us proud, Dayvon. You have perfectly shown us that you will be one of the future pillars of the Ingriss family and our kingdom, "she says in a tender and sweet voice.

  Dayvon, touched by his parents' words, lowered his head, one hand on his chest.

  "It's an honor for me to have made you proud... I really missed you during these last seven years," he said in a calm and tender tone.

  Seeing his attitude, Rapha?l and Arianne could not help but laugh lightly, because at that moment, they immediately recognized the child Dayvon they had raised.

  A few moments later - Prince Lucas' apartments:

  In his room bathed in the warm light of the chandeliers, Lucas stood still in front of the mirror, while Maya was busy around him. He wore an elegant white suit, finely cut, whose golden embroidery ran along his sleeves and jacket with delicate precision. A light cape, of a luminous gold, fell gracefully from his left shoulder, almost touching the ground. Around his neck shone the necklace that he never left.

  Maya's expert hands adjusted each fold of her white jacket, smoothed the golden cape that went down on her shoulder, and put back in place the rebellious locks of her freshly combed hair.

  "That's it... perfect," said Maya with a small smile of pride.

  "You are finally ready for your first appearance, Your Highness. "

  Lucas looked at himself in the mirror, smiling at his lips, admiring his clothes.

  "Thank you, Maya," he said smiling, with a sincere tone.

  But the next moment, he looked down at his immaculate gloves, then timidly raised his head.

  "Maya... tell me... do you think I will manage to stay myself in front of Dayvon if I meet him?" he asked in a slightly worried voice.

  The maid looked at him gently and nodded.

  "I am certain of it, Your Highness." Even tho I don't know His Highness Dayvon well, I was hired by the palace a year before his departure, and from what I saw, he cared for you so deeply that it even surprised me."

  "Even thought you are considered his rival for the throne, he never saw you as such. He considered you his treasure and took care of you. So don't worry, Your Highness, I'm sure your meeting will go well tonight," she said in a calm and tender voice.

  The words that Maya uttered were enough to calm the young prince's heart. A slight smile stretched his lips, and he inhaled deeply, ready to face the evening.

  When they left the room, Lucas' footsteps echoed in the long royal corridors, while Maya walked a few steps behind him. The white hangings that adorned the walls seemed to shine under the glow of chandeliers, and each step brought him closer to the banquet... and nobility.

  But as they walked, a figure appeared behind them. A soft but assured voice resounded in Maya's ear:

  "You can dispose, Maya. Let me take over. "

  Maya, surprised, immediately turned her head, and at that moment she saw red eyes that she clearly remembered.

  So without a word, she leaned over and eclipsed, letting Lucas continue his walk.

  The prince walked and continued to speak, believing that Maya was still behind him.

  "You know... I wonder if I'll be up to it in front of all these people. Father and mother expect a lot from me..."

  Behind him, a heavy silence. No answer. Not even a breath. Yet he felt a presence.

  Lucas frowned, but continued in a lower voice.

  "And then... Dayvon... I really hope everything will go well. I've been waiting so long for this moment..."

  He waited for an answer, but still nothing. His step became slower. The air suddenly seemed colder. The young prince the hairs on his arms stood on end. Slowly, as if his instinct was screaming at him to get ready, he turned his head.

  And there, his breath was blocked.

  It wasn't Maya. It wasn't a servant either. He was an older boy, dressed in an elegant black jacket embroidered with gold, a dark cape brushing the ground with each of his measured steps. His eyes of an incandescent red, exactly the same as his.

  Lucas stepped back, his heart beating hard, but he forced himself to calm down.

  "Who... who are you...?" He asked in a tone that was both calm and skeptical.

  His gaze slid towards the stranger's chest. And he saw it. A necklace identical to his, like two mirrors impossible to distinguish.

  His lips moved in spite of himself, in an almost silent breath:

  "... Dayvon? "

  The boy sketched a smile, a strange mixture of sweetness and confidence. He squatted calmly to Lucas' level, then nodded.

  "Good evening, little brother. "

  His voice, deep and warm, resounded in the silent air of the corridor like a truth one scarcely dared to believe.

  "You've grown well during all these years. "

  At that moment, the whole palace could have collapsed around Lucas: he only heard these words. The whole world was reduced to those red eyes identical to his, and to this smile that had just broken seven years of waiting.