Chapter 5 : Severus von Krakenan (2)
The melodious tone from the gathering lingered in the air.
Sadly, the event was drawing to a close as the dancers gradually slowed until the last chord faded.
A thunderous round of applause swept through the grand ballroom, the sound echoing off crystal chandeliers and marble columns.
For a moment, Princess Esme and Prince Severus stood a breath away from each other, caught between exhilaration and surprise as the audience's cheering washed over them.
They remained locked in each other's gaze until the clapping and cries of admiration finally registered.
The young man before her—tall, poised, and unmistakably confident—bowed deeply.
Esme responded with a graceful curtsey, her heart fluttering under the scrutiny of the courtiers.
The gathered nobles turned their attention to the pair, whispering behind ornate fans and gloved hands.
A firm male voice broke the loud silence. "Crown Prince Severus von Krakenan," King Norbert Carlton announced from behind his daughter.
Standing tall in a regal attire, that was styled in three colours—red, white and gold, the king's presence commanded respect. "It is an honor to welcome you to our ball this evening."
Esme's breath stilled, but for a moment.
The name sounded familiar—of course it did.
Esme remembered it after some minutes of tasking her brain to provide answers.
She was so close to snapping in elation when she calmed herself. 'I knew I had heard that name before.'
Severus von Krakenan.
One of the princes of the Laesian kingdom.
She had heard the rumors about the Laesian kingdom.
Some say they knew no honour, nor did they know natural respect.
Fierce rivalries, constant scheming and backstabbing.
Severus was not the only prince of Laesian, and this meant something significant—he won't be the only one vying for the throne of his kingdom.
The real question was: who would ultimately claim the title?
Now, before her eyes, stood the one chosen to succeed his father.
She fought the impulse to let her eyes widen in astonishment.
Severus inclined his head toward King Edward. "The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty," he said, his voice steady and polite.
Esme's stepmother, the queen, strode forward.
Her gaze was fixed on the scene unfolding between her stepdaughter and the Laesian prince.
Draped in a beautiful deep red gown accorded her spotless, pale skin the spotlight it deserved, Queen Selena watched the pair with a narrowed gaze, showing no expression that gave off even a whiff of an approval from her.
"Certainly, you are as bold as the rumors suggest," Queen Selena declared, her tone edged with disapproval.
"Stealing the first dance of an Enorthi princess from her father."
Her gaze flicked to Esme, then to Severus, sending a silent accusation that rippled through the court.
Severus, however, remained unshaken.
Instead, he smiled as if accepting his wrong. "My apologies, Your Majesty," he said, slightly bowing his head out of courtesy.
"I am not aware that it is the custom here for the father to have the first dance with his daughter," he said.
Severus' voice was smooth and his words were free flowing, with a hint of a smirk creasing the corners of his lips.
"I simply wished to dance with Princess Esme. I hope this has not caused offense, Your Majesty."
"Hehe," the king softly chuckled, amused by the scene that played before his eyes as he placed a hand on Severus' shoulder.
"Not at all, Prince Severus."
He moved to place a gentle hand on Esme's shoulder, reclaiming his paternal right to comfort her.
"The royal family of Laesian is known for its impetuous spirit. I won't be wrong to say that you were smitten by my daughter's beauty."
A faint flush colored Esme's cheeks under the weight of all those staring eyes.
She felt as though she might collapse under their unified gaze.
Severus gave a modest bow. "Indeed, Your Majesty. Impetuousness is part of our charm. We pursue what we desire."
A subtle tension crackled between King Norbert and the Laesian Prince—words carefully chosen, respect feigned, yet underneath simmering challenges to one another's authority.
The king's smile remained steady, but his eyes flickered with a shadow of caution.
Queen Selena's lips tightened into a thin line.
She turned toward the far side of the room, as if intending to rejoin her attendants.
With a final, disdainful glance at Esme, she swept past and disappeared into a cluster of privileged guests.
Her absence left a lasting chill in Esme's mind.
King Norbert placed a protective arm around Esme's shoulder.
"Selena can be difficult," he said softly, ensuring his voice carried only to his daughter.
"But remember this, Esme. The power of the Laesian Kingdom rivals ours. I dare to say they may even be stronger than us. We cannot risk offending them directly, not yet at least."
Princess Esme nodded, clasping her hands before her. "I understand, Father."
Prince Severus straightened his posture, inclining his head toward Esme one final time. "I regret that I must leave so soon, Princess."
His voice softened, revealing genuine regret beneath his princely composure.
"An urgent matter demands my attention. I thank you for the dance."
Esme managed a small, composed smile, though her heart felt as if it might burst. "Safe travels, Your Highness. And thank you for the honor of dancing."
He bowed to both the king and, with a brief nod, to Queen Selena before turning away.
The hush in the ballroom deepened as Severus crossed the polished marble, a dark silhouette against the flickering candlelight.
His aide, a strikingly tall young man with a neatly shaven head that may glitter under light, joined in and stood side by side with Severus as the Laesian prince departed the ball.
The aide's presence seemed a silent warning—Severus did not rely solely on charm.
He commanded loyalty and vigilance.
They reached the grand double doors of the ballroom, pushing them open to reveal a sleek black carriage waiting in the courtyard's golden glow.
Lanterns swung from carriage lamps, casting dancing lights across the cobbled courtyard.
Two servants mounted alongside the horses, their uniforms crisp and spotless.
Severus then slid into the carriage with effortless grace but not before he spared one last glance at the castle, the source of Enorth's power and intrigue.
Shortly after, his subordinate followed, closing the door with a soft click.
The horses neighed and pawed at the ground before the carriage lurched forward, pulling away from the castle gates and into the cool night.
Inside the carriage, shadows flickered across red velvet seats.
Severus gazed out a small side window, where torches lining the castle walls blurred into a golden haze. The country road ahead stretched dark and unknown.
"Your Highness, everything has been arranged and is progressing as planned," Bismarck, the prince's aide, reported. His voice was low, respectful, yet crisp with authority.
Severus' profile softened in the carriage's dim light.
He turned to Bismarck, eyes glinting with iron resolve.
"Excellent. Keep an eye on Enorth's movements. They always hide something behind such gracious gestures."
The aide bowed his head. "Understood, sire."
He paused, as if weighing a new question. "Your Highness, about Princess Esme Carlton—are you certain this is the right choice?"
Severus allowed a brief smile, confident and assured. "From the moment I first saw her and locked eyes with her, I knew she was destined to stand by my side as queen. There never was another choice."
Bismarck inclined with deep respect. "Your devotion is unwavering. I will see this through."
Outside, the world was silent except for the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves on cobblestones.
The carriage carried them away from the castle's warmth toward whatever waited in the darkness—secrets, schemes, the beginning of an alliance forged in moonlight and roses.