It was a golden morning in the Duchy of Sephera, the kind that seemed painted by the gods themselves. The hens clucked their cheerful songs in the courtyards, while swallows darted and spun in the warm air, their wings catching the light like shards of silver. The cobblestone streets shimmered under the rising sun, as townsfolk bustled to their trades, the rhythm of life flowing through the capital like a well-rehearsed symphony.
In the grand manor at the heart of Sephera, marble columns caught the morning glow, and the air smelled faintly of lavender from the gardens outside. Inside, a maid was fussing over a restless young boy, her hands quick but careful as she fastened the last of his embroidered buttons.
"Young master, please, calm yourself," she urged with a gentle yet practiced firmness. "I understand your feelings, but today is not the day for rebellion. You must look your finest for the ceremony—elegance is your armor this morning."
The boy huffed, his gaze drifting toward the window where sunlight streamed across the manicured lawns. Somewhere beyond the gates, the city stirred, and with it, the weight of expectations that came with his name.
The boy's hair was as dark as midnight, a soft contrast to the molten gold of his eyes—eyes alight with charisma and an untamed joy that seemed to dance with every glance. His face was youthful and charming, a smile always ready to bloom, carrying an innocence that could disarm even the sternest soul.
"But we might be late, Anna," he said, a note of worry tugging at his voice.
They departed without delay, stepping out into the crisp morning air as the great doors of the manor closed behind them. Waiting in the courtyard was a carriage of fine craftsmanship—its polished wood gleaming under the sun, the crest of the Duchy of Sephera etched proudly upon its side. The horses, sleek and well-groomed, stamped their hooves in anticipation, their bridles adorned with silver fittings that caught the light.
Beside the carriage stood the coachman and footman, both dressed in the deep blue and gold of the duchy's livery. The older of the two stepped forward, bowing deeply before the lady and the boy.
"We greet the Duchess and the young lord," he said, his voice respectful yet warm. "May the winds favor your journey, and may you reach the capital in safety."
Ether's golden eyes lit up at the formal greeting, while his mother returned a gracious nod. They stepped into the plush interior of the carriage, the scent of polished oak and faint lavender greeting them as the door closed behind.
With a gentle lurch, the carriage rolled forward, the steady rhythm of the horses' hooves echoing against the cobblestone. Beyond the gates, the sprawling lands of Sephera stretched wide—rolling hills, golden fields, and the distant shimmer of the river that wound its way toward the heart of the kingdom. Their journey had begun.
Anna, ever composed, fastened the final fold of his attire and offered a warm smile. "Young master, there is no need for concern. The capital awaits you, and we have time enough to arrive before the bells even think to chime."
A gentle, feminine voice drifted from the doorway."Anna, is Ether ready?"
The door swung open, and the boy immediately dashed toward the figure standing there."Mother! How much longer must we wait?" Ether asked, his voice brimming with energy.
The woman's eyes were sharp yet warm, her features refined with an air of effortless elegance. She carried herself with the grace of nobility—slender in build, her youthful face untouched by time. Kneeling to meet her son's gaze, she drew him into a tender embrace.
This was Haera, the Duchess of Sephera.
"If my little one wishes," she said with a soft smile, "we can leave at once."
"Lady Haera, please," Anna interjected politely, "if you dote on him so now, his attire will be in disarray before we even reach the capital."