Chapter 87: Juan’s pov

What was the rascal up to?I still hadn't forgotten how he abandoned me at the battle field, leaving without an explanation.

We still hadn't spoken about what happened earlier that evening before the war started.

It was definitely going to be an interesting reunion between us. I sighed.

****

Prince Juan, heir to the great empire, was finding it increasingly difficult to stay alert, his eyelids drooping as if weighted down by the sheer boredom of the royal proceedings.

To his mother's annoyance, he had to be gently nudged awake every time the emperor raised a question, his head nodding ever so slightly as if agreeing with a point he didn't quite grasp. If the prince could escape this stuffy throne room without insulting any foreign dignitaries, he would consider it a win.

The soft strains of chamber music mingled with the polite chatter of dignitaries and courtiers, creating a lulling, hypnotic melody that coaxed Juan closer to sleep.

He fought to maintain his posture, resisting the urge to slouch and succumb to slumber as his father, talked to Levi.

The throne, usually a source of pride and power, felt more like an oversized cushion, inviting him to rest his weary head.

The Prince's mind wandered to his mother, the Queen, whose insistence on his attendance at court was as inflexible as her will.

She believed that the crown prince must learn, must see and hear and understand the workings of the empire, its people and its politics, if he were to become a capable ruler one day. But to Juan, the stifling formality, the endless posturing, seemed little more than a grand waste of time.

The thought of those foul creatures, the beast monsters, elicited a shiver of revulsion down Juan's spine. In recent weeks, rumors had been spreading about these creatures which roamed the lands beyond the kingdom's borders, wreaking havoc and destruction in their wake.

As the heir to the throne, Juan was expected to take an active role in investigating these reports, alongside the Captain of the Guard. Yet, the study of these creatures proved to be a grim and unsettling affair, one that left him with more questions than answers.

He looked down at Levi, the sight of him, clad in simple clothes and looking somewhat out of place amidst the opulence of the court, made the Prince reflect on the irony of the situation. Enjoy new chapters from mvl

He wondered how such a young boy could prove more useful than all the mages in the palace.

Levi's physical stature belied the wisdom and courage that burned within him, a spirit as fiery and fierce as any seasoned warrior.

"Heck, he looks barely older than Damon,"

Yet he had thought about the spawn point of the beast monsters and had gone to the garden himself to look for the portal.

The rumors of Levi's harrowing experience within the garden had spread throughout the palace, the whispers echoing along the stone walls like a creeping shadow.

It was said that, after venturing into the garden in search of the portal, he had become trapped, surrounded by beast monsters and with no way to escape. For a long while, he had fought for his life, relying on his wits and his uncanny abilities to hold the creatures at bay, until at last, help arrived.

The very idea of being trapped within the garden's confines, alone and outnumbered, with those savage beasts closing in, was enough to make even the bravest of warriors tremble. The beasts, humanoid in appearance but with vicious, feral features, their eyes gleaming with murderous intent, would have been a terrifying sight, each movement and snarl a promise of imminent death.

Juan, safe in his throne, shuddered at the thought, unable to fathom the courage and skill that had enabled Levi to survive such an ordeal.

Levi's clothing, a collage of frayed edges and faded colors, told a story of their own. The gray shirt, once a clean, crisp garment, was now marred by patches of discoloration and stubborn stains, the fabric thinning with age and wear.

The seams, once tight and secure, had begun to unravel, threads dangling like loose strings.

His black pants, too, bore the marks of time and labor, the material rough and faded, the hems frayed and tattered.

Levi's medium-length hair, a rich, inky black that seemed almost too dark to be natural, was swept back from his face, the ends curling ever so slightly at the nape of his neck.

On the throne to Juan's left, his mother, the Queen, sat regal and remote, her face hidden behind a veil of delicate, shimmering fabric.

Years had passed since Juan had last gazed upon his mother's face, the veil a constant barrier between them, a reminder of her station and the distance that separated them, not just physically but emotionally as well.

Though time had dulled his memories, he could still summon, with effort, the ghost of her beauty, a vision that was as hazy and indistinct as a memory of a dream.

Today she was swathed in yards of lemon velvet and floating scarves and shawls of yellow, and her crown upheld her sparkling veil in a manner that gave Juan the distinct impression she was wearing a tent upon her head.

Before them, stood a few of the nobility, standing by the sides of the room and watching the emperor talk to Levi.

Juan felt like an ornament. Of course, he was wearing an outfit of his mother's choosing, sent to him this morning: a vest of purple velvet, with almost ridiculously billowy white sleeves bursting from the shoulders. The pants, mercifully, were black, though his brown suede boots looked too new for masculine pride.

There was an enigma to Levi, a quality that Juan could not put his finger on, that seemed to radiate from the young boy. seaʀᴄh thё NôᴠelFirё.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The way he carried himself, the self-assuredness in his words and actions, suggested a depth and complexity that was incongruous with his humble origins.