The walk through the grand palace corridors was wrapped in a heavy, suffocating silence. Cassian kept his posture stern and his gaze locked strictly ahead, trying to focus entirely on the upcoming conversation with his father. Yet, he was hyper-aware of the massive, protective presence moving just a step behind him.
He could feel the weight of Lucien's ice-blue eyes fixed on the back of his neck, precisely where Sora's mark was hidden beneath his high collar.
Lucien walked with measured, quiet steps, painfully conscious of the deliberate distance the prince was keeping between them. Every inch of space felt like an uncrossable chasm. The knight's chest ached with a deep, quiet yearning; he wanted to reach out to the prince's frame, but his hands remained tightly at his sides. Their thoughts clashed loudly in the quiet hallway, filled with things they both desperately wanted to say but chose to bury.
Finally, they reached the grand, ornate doors of the imperial family's private residence in the Edrath Academy's premises. Cassian halted, taking a shallow breath to steady his voice before requesting an audience with his father. The attendants opened the heavy doors, and Cassian stepped into the Emperor's grand study, while Lucien silently took his post, standing guard just outside the room as the door clicked shut behind them.
To Cassian's surprise, his father was not alone. The Elven High Priestess, Dasery, was also present. Her appearance was entirely ethereal, and a soft, divine aura hummed visibly in the air around her.
"Oh, my apologies. I hope I am not interrupting your meeting, Your Majesty," Cassian said, bowing briefly to his father.
Emperor Cedric looked up from his desk and offered a warm, welcoming smile.
"You are actually right on time, Cassian. The Priestess was just filling me in about the plans and decisions the Queen has made regarding your 'Divine mate' going forward. I am glad that you are here, which spares me the time of having to explain everything to you later. Come, sit down."
Cedric gestured toward the vacant chair at the table. Cassian nodded, taking a step forward to join his father and the priestess.
"High Priestess..." Cassian greeted her softly.
Dasery curtly bowed her head, placing her hand flat against her chest in a respectful elven greeting.
"Your Highness."
With the formal greetings exchanged, they both sat down. Cedric glanced between the two of them, ready to begin the serious conversation any time.
Just then the Emperor first questioned Cassian about Sora, wanting to know exactly how they had met. Cassian kept his voice calm and factual, explaining everything openly. He told his father how Sora had originally been brought to him merely as a courtesan by a third party, the elf was meant to please him for a single night to ease his burdens in regards of his former engagement with Thoris. And during that time he had thought Sora was a human because of his glamour.
He further explained that neither of them had expected anything more, but during that fateful night, their soul bond had manifested so naturally and coincidentally that it could not be denied.
They then shifted to a much heavier topic: what this mating actually meant for the Edrath Holy Empire.
For centuries, elves and humans had lived in deep friction. Elves were widely viewed as enemies of the empire, and their magical and spiritual teachings were vastly different, even if their ancient gods shared slight similarities. But under imperial law, engaging intimately with an elf—let alone impregnating one—was a severe crime, traditionally punishable by execution for everyone involved.
However, because Cassian was the legitimate Crown Prince and the elf involved was a Divine Vessel—holding a status equal to a Duke in human nobility—both figures were far too important to their respective nations to execute. Their bond was a political miracle, a golden opportunity to bring the Edrath Holy Empire and the Verdant Elven Alliance together after centuries of isolation. It held the potential to create a massive, mutually beneficial alliance, sealed by a shared royal bloodline.
Suddenly, Cedric leaned forward, his expression turning thoughtful.
"High Priestess, if you don't mind, this Emperor would like to know a little more about this Moonborn elf. Seeing that my son also knows so little of his companion's background, I would deeply appreciate it if you could educate us a little bit about his roots, his present situation, and his future political alignment within your lands. But, of course, that is only if it is possible for you to enlighten us."
Dasery nodded slowly, her expression turning solemn.
"I understand your concerns, Your Majesty, and I will speak openly. Firstly, Sora Curzon is the eighth generation of the Curzon family, and he is its sole survivor during the religious schism[1]. Thousands of years ago, the Moonborns and the pure elves intermarried freely. The Curzon family was a household with the longest history and the highest standing among all the Moonborn people."
"As you may know, pure elves cannot physically conceive offspring on their own. Our females conceive with the help of the sacred World Tree, by sending our mana and our prayers into its roots to be blessed with children. But the Moonborns were different. They were a rare race, a few select bloodlines blessed directly by the gods with Divine Vessel lineages, regardless of their gender. They carried a unique divine favor, and the Curzons were the most blessed of all. They held a status closest to the crown in the past, highly respected because they possessed a physical fertility very similar to that of humans, and their inner divinity resonated strongly with the World Tree. And just like the ancient dragons, the Moonborns were the relatives closest to us, and they held immense power. In fact, sixty percent of the magical and political power in our lands solely belonged to the Curzons. That is just how powerful they were."
"They were Sora's maternal side of the family; his father was a pure elf who married into their prestigious household and willingly took the Curzon name in order to help continue their legacy. But five hundred years ago, when our current Queen ascended the throne, everything began to change. The Moonborns were suddenly declared cursed by the crown, and they were all completely exterminated."
Cedric's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Including the powerful Curzon family?"
"Yes..." Dasery replied, her voice dropping to a somber whisper. "More especially the Curzons. You might wonder how they fell, given all the immense power that they possessed."
Cassian sat quietly, but his mind was reeling.
'So how freaking old is Sora now? Is he seriously more than five hundred years old?' He shook his head slightly, quickly brushing the shocking thought aside so he could focus entirely on Dasery's words.
"Yes, indeed, I am wondering that much," Cassian noted, leaning closer to the table. "How could such a powerful lineage be wiped out so completely?"
Dasery hesitated for a moment, looking visibly uncomfortable. She let out a heavy sigh and shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, to tell you the truth, not even Sora knows the full details of this, though it is not a strictly kept secret among the high officials. It was simply a betrayal."
Cassian gasped softly, his chest tightening.
"A betrayal? From a close family member, or perhaps a trusted friend?"
Dasery sighed once more, her nervous eyes glancing toward the closed wooden doors every now and then, as if worried someone might overhear.
"It was Sora's own father. The man who is our current King."
Cedric's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"The current King you say?"
"He held all of their secrets, he knew their structural weaknesses, and he betrayed them all to the Queen just to save himself," Dasery explained bitterly.
Cassian and Cedric exchanged a synchronized look of utter shock.
"So Sora's father... he is your King now?" Cassian asked, trying to process the cruelty of it.
Dasery nodded firmly.
"Remember what I told you. Sora's father was a pure elf who married into the household. Perhaps destroying the family from within was his grand goal from the very beginning. Or perhaps, when the purge began, he was simply too scared to die alongside them, so he sold their secrets to the Queen to buy his own life and title. After all, our Queen had her eyes on his beauty from a very young age. But... that is all that this loose-mouthed Priestess can safely tell you. Please forgive me."
"We understand, Priestess," Cedric said, his voice deep and comforting. "You have told us plenty. But with such a dark history hanging over him, will the divine elf truly be safe when he heads back to your kingdom? You must remember, his safety is our priority as well. After all, he carries the Valemont heir... my very first grandchild."
Hearing his father's words, Cassian felt a sudden, ironic urge to laugh.
'And there are more to come, Father. After all, Adrian is expecting a child as well.' The thought was so amusing to him that he had to secretly pinch his own leg under the table to force himself to focus on the serious matter at hand.
"To answer you, Your Majesty," Dasery spoke up, her voice ringing with absolute certainty.
"Sora will be very safe in our land, because our entire livelihood now depends on him."
Cedric didn't look completely convinced. "Then what happens if your livelihood improves? Won't your people simply betray him as well, just like you all did to his maternal race centuries ago?"
"That is impossible!" Dasery protested, her tone turning fierce and defensive.
"Not only because he is a sacred divine vessel, but because he is the Crown Prince's chosen mate. If anyone harms Sora now, they would be directly provoking his Crown Prince, Cassian. Trust me, none of our officials want a war with your powerful nation. Furthermore, our kingdom has already joined hands with all the Aetheria nations, and we have caused far too many problems to risk a conflict now."
She calmed her voice, looking pleadingly at the Emperor.
"Please believe me. Sora is our only hope now, and our Mother Yggdrasil needs him desperately. Our Queen may be proud, ruthless, and politically intelligent, but our Elven faith has just received an ancient prophecy that we cannot ignore. The prophecy states: 'When the divine vessel returns, the forest shall bloom again.' If that is the truth, then doesn't it mean that if we get rid of the vessel, our sacred forests will perish permanently? The sacred World Tree has been dying and suffering for centuries. The moment Sora returns to our soil while pregnant, flowers will bloom, sacred springs will flow again, and the ancient spirits will finally awaken. To us elves, this is undeniable proof that we need Sora. If the Queen dares to kill him, then she risks a violent, divine rebellion from her own people, and I am certain that is not what my Queen wants."
Cedric turned the words over in his mind before nodding slowly.
"I guess that makes sense. In that case, take this message back to your Queen. During the grand banquet celebrating our tournament's conclusion this Saturday, we will officially announce Cassian and Sora's engagement to the world, along with the expected royal heir. After that public announcement, Sora will leave with you and head back to your lands to improve your nation as intended. Once there is noticeable improvement on your side, you will let us know, and we will officially unite them and marry them together, just like Cassian suggested the other day. We will figure out the rest of the political details together, after our nations have amassed some structural improvements during this year."
Dasery smiled, looking deeply relieved and pleased.
"Very well, Your Majesty. I am certain that my Queen will be pleased with these terms as well."
"Very well, very well," Cedric muttered.
"In that case, please excuse me. I must hurry and let my Queen know of this arrangement immediately," Dasery said.
"Go ahead, High Priestess. Thank you for your time," Cedric replied.
Dasery offered a graceful bow before making a swift, quiet exit from the study, heading back toward the residence where the Elven Queen resided.
*****
[1] A schism refers to a formal division or split within a group, organization, or movement, typically arising from disagreements over doctrine, policy, religion or leadership.