Chapter 13 - 13. How to Summon A Prince (accidentally)

Fenric and Kael decided to wait outside. I wandered between the shelves alone, scanning spines until my eyes landed on titles that immediately killed my mood.

How to Understand the Coin System of Valkathra.

Hard pass.

A little farther in, I froze. An entire section, no, a wall dedicated to the Ashbourne family.

There were way too many books. An unsettling amount, actually. Who was the medieval paparazzi stalking the royal family so hard that this many volumes existed?

𝘖𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘱𝘰 𝘥𝘺𝘯𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘺.

One book, in particular, caught my eye. It was dedicated entirely to the men of House Ashbourne.

I squinted at it.

𝘌𝘸. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦.

I hauled the heavy-ass book to a nearby table and dropped into a chair with a thud that sent a sharp jolt through my hip bone. I hissed under my breath, rubbing the spot as I opened it.

𝘖𝘸.

Pages and pages of names stared back at me.

𝘕𝘰𝘱𝘦.

I was very much in my man hater phase today. I flipped straight past all of it and jumped to the last section.

There it was. The current ruler.

King Thaddeus Ashbourne.

𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘴𝘪𝘹 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘈 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴.

The praise went on and on until it stopped sounding like acknowledgment and started reading like propaganda.

I skimmed faster. I'd heard all of this already, usually over dinner, courtesy of Kirill, who sometimes served the king and queen in his capacity as a knight. According to him, Thaddeus was respectable, 𝘢dmirable even.

…Yeah. No.

Father had a very different opinion. He'd mentioned, more than once, that during court meetings, the king barely listened when common grievances were raised. Battles and policies mattered but people, apparently, were optional.

So forgive me if I wasn't impressed.

Then, right before my eyes, new words began to etch themselves onto the parchment in shimmering ink.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭.

The book was updating in real time.

It now included entries on Kairan and Ancillin.

"Kairan Alistair Ashbourne 𝘪𝘴 firstborn of Thaddeus, twenty-four years of age, born with unmatched strength, greater than any man or woman in Valkathra. Crowned heir to the throne at ten."

(Author:-What is he, a Chinese webtoon prodigy?)

𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘩. 𝘈𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘯? 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸.

I turned to the next section.

"Ancillin Emrys Ashbourne, second son of Thaddeus, twenty years of age. Appointed High Lunarch of the Temple at sixteen. Among all High Lunarchs in history, his mana is recorded as the purest and lightest, earning him heavenly reverence."

𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘓𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩? 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯?

I dug through the shelves until I found a thick, dust-laced book labeled "Chronicles of the Lunarchs."

𝘎𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘢.

The first page spelled it out:

"The High Lunarch holds the second-highest rank within the temple. Their duty is to cleanse the mana within people. Any wielder of magic must appear before the temple, for unrestrained magic harms both its bearer and the world around them."

"If a person's magic is deemed unworthy, the High Lunarch strips it away. Those who are capable undergoes Aetherbinding which is a ritual to stabilize their power."

High Lunarchs also led the temple's mages in creating protective barriers around the kingdom, and during wars, they served as healers and physicians.

𝘚𝘰 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳-𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩-𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦-𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘩-𝘦𝘹𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘵.

I spent the whole day flipping through books, jumping from legends to bloodlines to weird magical manuals that made no sense but sounded cool anyway.

When I finally got up, my spine made a noise that belonged in a horror movie.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Dear heavens, my back just filed for retirement.

I straightened, groaning like a dying pirate. My hips were numb, my shoulders cracked, and for a second, I questioned every life decision that led to reading for straight hours.

Still, I stretched my arms up like a champion. "It's fine, Sia. You've learned things. You're basically a scholar now."

Then I put one foot on the chair, raised my fist dramatically, and declared, "With this knowledge, I'll conquer the world! You hear me, you assblender Kairan? You'll be kissing my royal as—"

"Uhm… Lady?"

I froze mid evil monologue.

At the door stood a maid, staring at me like she'd just walked in on a demon summoning ritual. Her eyes said 'I'm not paid enough for this.'

I awkwardly lowered my leg and smoothed my dress. "Yes?" I coughed, slipping back into Meredia's proper noble tone, chin high, eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

She blinked. "It's… dinner time, my lady."

𝘋𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳? 𝘈𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘋𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴?

I forced a polite smile. "Ah. Wonderful. I adore… sustenance."

The maid nodded uncertainly and scurried away, probably to tell the others that the lady had lost her mind in the library.

I sighed and dragged myself out of the library like a corpse that just realized it had to pay taxes. My eyes burned, my back screamed, and my brain was fried from too much "ancient wisdom."

By the time I reached the dining hall, everyone was already seated..

I slipped into my seat, trying to look composed, but my body was one wrong move away from collapsing.

Father glanced at me. "You were in the library all day?"

"Yes, Father." I managed a tired smile, staring at a soup which wanted to spit at me."Learning about Valkathra."

Esther nearly choked on his soup. Kirill just stared like I'd announced I was becoming a nun. Even the Duchess's spoon paused midair.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵?

Father, however, looked... proud? "Good. But don't stress yourself out."

I nodded, pretending to beam at his approval while inside I was screaming.

Esther muttered under his breath, "Can't wait till she forgets this phase."

I shot him a look. "Can't wait till you grow a personality."

Duchess cleared her throat in warning glaring at him.

Kirill silently laughed into his cup.

Dinner ended in that tense, quiet "we're pretending to be civil but we all love cringe family feels" energy.

As everyeone stood to leave, Father called out, "Meredia, tomorrow you'll accompany me to tomorrow's meeting. It's time you observe kingdom's affairs."

I froze. Kingdom's affairs? Like, the political one? With actual nobles who talk in riddles and backstab for sport?

I smiled sweetly. "Of course, Father."

.

.

.

.

I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow like it could protect me from tomorrow.

What was even discussed in Father's meetings? Politics? Taxes? Sacrificing goats for better harvests? I had no clue....and neither did Meredia, apparently.

But I couldn't back out now. I'd begged him to let me attend. I had to at least pretend to be competent.

I kicked my feet against the mattress, groaning. "Oh god! How do I even do this!?"

"Do what?"

𝘕𝘰. 𝘜𝘨𝘩.

Every muscle in my body locked. That voice.... was deep and too calm to be anyone else's.

𝘒𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘯.

My heart started hammering so fast it almost hurt. I didn't dare lift my head from the pillow, didn't even breathe too loud.

The soft thud of boots echoed closer. Then the faint creak of the sofa cushions.

He was sitting right across from my bed.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦?

"It's rather improper of you to keep lying like that," his voice slid through the darkness.

"I take no pleasure in gazing at a lady's.... back," he went on, tone so velvety and calm, "and yet, every time I find you, this is how you choose to greet me."

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭.

He was the one sneaking into my room, and he had the audacity to complain about my posture?

"Sit up."

I couldn't. My limbs refused to listen. And then—what the hell?—without him even touching me, my body jerked, flipped over as if pulled by invisible hands, landing flat on my back.

"Ah!" I gasped, eyes wide. Had he just… done that?

I scrambled upright, pressing myself against the headboard, breath uneven.

The room was dim, shadows clinging to every corner, but those piercing emeralds of his eyes cut through the dark like twin blades of light.

Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes. I blinked, trying to see him clearly.

But by the time my vision steadied, he was gone.

My chest heaved, the air in the room got cold as if he'd taken all warmth with him when he vanished.

I pressed my palm to where my heart was pounding. it felt almost violent.

What was that?

He didn't just walk out. He disappeared. One second those eyes were there burning right through me and the next, only darkness.

I scanned the room, half expecting him to reappear in a corner, or behind the curtains, or worse...right beside the bed.

𝘏𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

I buried my face in my knees, whispering to myself, "You're fine, Sia. It's just a power tripping prince with teleportation issues."

Still, sleep refused to come. Every sound...the creak of the walls, the wind outside felt like him watching.

I stayed like that for hours, wide awake, until dawn finally bled through the and reminded me that I had a council meeting to survive… and possibly a stalker prince problem to ignore.

I woke before the temple bells could even think about ringing and called for the triplets to help me bathe. The water was warm, but my stomach wasn't. it was doing flips.

Father had set the meeting for early morning so he wouldn't have to miss breakfast with the family.

By the time I was dressed and walking down the corridor to his office, my nerves were a tangled mess of dread and excitement. My palms were sweaty, my brain replaying every possible way this could go wrong.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘨𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵? 𝘖𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘺.

I swallowed hard. "Okay, Sia," I muttered to myself. "You can handle one little meeting. Probably."

I pushed the door open, rehearsing my polite smile for whatever wrinkly councilmen awaited me—

—And instantly regretted it.

Forget pompous old men. I'd take a whole army of them over 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

Because there he was, The Prince Kairan, sitting on the sofa like he owned the place, sipping tea at an hour when even sunlight was still half-asleep.

My breath caught. My throat went dry like I'd swallowed sand.

He lifted his gaze from the teacup, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe altogether. Those emerald eyes were cool, lazy, too knowing.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦?

My hands fisted in my dress before I could stop them.

𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥. 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵

.

He wore a navy coat embroidered in silver threads that caught the light every time he moved. Beneath it, a charcoal waistcoat hugged his frame, paired with a black shirt and matching pantds that somehow made him look 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦. A teal brooch gleamed at his collar, a whisper of color against all that darkness.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳. 𝘕𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.

His eyes lingered on me far too long before he finally set his cup down.

"Has decorum eluded your memory, lady? Or is bowing beneath your dignity now."

My spine stiffened. I forced myself into a curtsey. "Good morning, Your Highness. May the crown shine brighter upon you today."

𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘨 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘶𝘭𝘭.

He let out a low, amused breath, almost a laugh, but heavier.

"Such sweetened pronouncements bestowed upon me, early in the morn. You have become remarkably... ornate in your salutations."

I straightened, glaring at him. He really could find fault in oxygen if I breathed it wrong.

"I'll take my leave, Your Highness. I came to see my father, but…" my eyes flicked to the empty chair, "he doesn't seem to be here."

Kairan leaned back slightly, one arm resting over the sofa's edge, a half-smile curving at his lips.

"He shall alive soom. Please, take a seat. It would be quite indelicate to leave your prince im solitude."

That smile made it clear this wasn't a request.

I sat opposite him, spine straight, chin lifted just enough to look composed. Inside, though, my pulse was drumming loud enough to echo in my ears.

He didn't speak right away. He just kept looking at me but noot in the way men looked at women, but in the way hunters looked at something they couldn't quite name yet. His gaze traced my every tiny movementes...the twitch in my fingers, the shallow rise of my breath, the way I avoided his eyes like they were traps.

And then, almost lazily, he said,

"You've been visiting the library quite often, haven't you?"

My head snapped up before I could stop it. "I—yes. Just brushing up on some history."

His tone was deceptively mild, almost thoughtful.

"History."

He tilted his head a little, eyes glinting under the morning light.

"Curious indeed. Lady Meredia once proclaimed that history is a tedious scandering of ink. Yet here you find yourself engrossed in reading until the sun itself neglects to descend."

I forced a small laugh. "People change."

"Do they?"

The quiet depth behind his question made my stomach twist. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, and his voice dropped lower.

"Change etches its mark upon existence. A new rhythm in one's speech, an altered manner of respiration, and even the manner in which light response to one's very being. Captivating, isn't it?

My throat went dry. He was smiling pleasant and politebut there was something in his words I couldn't understand. But anyway, I did't understand a single thing this man said.

"I… suppose so, Your Highness," I managed, trying not to shrink under his gaze.

"Mm."

He leaned back again.

"Unpredictable. Such is your transformation, Lady Meredia. A most uncommon phenomenon in an existence where surprises are a rare commodity for me."

The way unpredictable rolled off his tongue...it wasn't just an observation. It was an accusation.

I swallowed hard, forcing a smirk I didn't feel. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He let out a soft certain laugh...

"I wouldn't. Change that comes overnight tends to invite eyes you may not want on you."

The words sank in slow, unsettling me. My fingers curled in my lap. "Are you one of those eyes, Your Highness?"

For a heartbeat, silence fell. Then his mouth curved.

"I see what others overlook."

Before I could respond, the door opened.

Father stepped in, his presence snapping the air back to something ordinary.

Kairan rose instantly, every ounce of that quiet menace tucked away, replaced by flawless courtly grace.

"Duke Oberon," he greeted smoothly. "We were merely speaking of your daughter's… newfound curiosities."