It would take hours to reach the main palace.
The journey was long, winding through roads that were clearly maintained to a high standard.
The pace was steady enough.
I watched the world pass by the window in a slow, continuous panorama of cultivated fields and scattered hamlets.
Gosh, the carriage was so steady. I didn't even get motion sickness.
The sophisticated suspension and the skill of the driver were impressive, a testament to the meticulous care given to the youngest Morvaine.
Knights and some servants were following behind and some up ahead.
I counted at least a dozen heavily armored knights on horseback, their House Morvaine sigils gleaming, in addition to several liveried servants riding along.
We were numbered almost twenty.
I frowned slightly, maintaining the detached expression. Was escorting me necessary for that much people?
For a simple family dinner, this seemed less like a travel arrangement and more like a military deployment.
It underscored the precious, fragile nature of the Grand Duke's youngest son.
They weren't just escorting me; they were guarding a valuable, breakable asset.
I wondered if the public knew my condition, but it seemed not.
If the populace knew the youngest Morvaine bled from stress, it would be a huge political weakness for the family.
The security and the sheer display of force suggested that the official narrative was one of strength and prestige.
Well, my family members are surely strong, so they might as well see me as strong too?
The Morvaine family were known Magic Swordsmen with Ascendant-ranked traits.
My father and brothers would certainly be powerful individuals.
The paradox of the situation was clear: I was one of the weakest people in this empire, yet I was treated with the security and deference due to one of the strongest.
I had to ensure my performance tonight reflected the latter, not the former, or the consequences for my survival could be severe.
We reached a town, and the carriage slowed to a crawl.
I commanded to find somewhere soon here. My lungs felt tight, and the plush air inside the cabin was starting to feel heavy.
'A confined space for hours is a perfect recipe for a Mana flare-up,' I thought.
I needed some fresh air, and a brief stretch of my legs wouldn't hurt.
I knocked once on the inner wall of the carriage, and the captain of the guard immediately rode up to the window.
"Captain, halt the procession. Find a suitable place nearby. I require a few minutes of fresh air," I instructed, my voice flat and carrying the tone of absolute finality that came so easily to Draeven.
The captain didn't hesitate. "Your Highness, this is an urban area, but I shall find a secure inn or courtyard immediately. We will stop near the barony's offices. Secure all positions!"
His voice boomed the command to the escort.
What an eye candy.
As the carriage slowed, I had a chance to look out the window.
The town was flourish, almost a city.
The streets were wide, paved with cobblestones, and packed with people, vendors, and vibrant activity.
The buildings were well-maintained and handsome, clearly indicating a prosperous region.
We sure attracted attention.
The sight of four massive horses, a gilded carriage, and twenty heavily armed, distinctively marked Morvaine knights brought all commerce to a dead stop.
Dozens of wide eyes watched our procession, a mix of awe and immediate deference.
The knight captain quickly returned to the window after giving his orders.
"Your Highness, it will take a few more minutes to the barony in charge of this place for our stop. We are currently in the town of Veridian, governed by Baron Aldus."
"And the distance?" I asked, my voice demanding conciseness.
"Less than half a mile, Your Highness. His Honor's residence will provide adequate security and a private courtyard for your rest."
I didn't reply.
I simply nodded once, giving him silent dismissal, and he immediately pulled back to manage the rest of the escort.
The stalls around and bustling people caught my attention.
The smells of baking bread, spices, and fresh earth drifted into the carriage.
This is Western Lands, ruled by our house.
This town was in govern by a baron he said? He must be a lower noble under us.
The ease with which the captain spoke of ordering a Baron's premises confirmed the massive gap in our status.
House Morvaine ruled absolutely here.
The Baron was merely an employee, and I, the youngest son, commanded more immediate respect than he did in his own territory.
This sense of inherited power was both a comforting security and a heavy responsibility.
I had to continue acting the part of the powerful young prince.
We soon reached the place.
The carriage rolled to a halt in a large, cobblestone courtyard shielded by high stone walls.
It was clearly the residence of a powerful local noble, though it was dwarfed by my own estate.
The baron himself was there to meet me.
As soon as I stepped out, I saw him with his people to personally welcome me.
Baron Aldus was a middle-aged man, portly and dressed in expensive but somewhat gaudy velvet, his face a mask of sweating, nervous respect.
He was flanked by several officials and house guards, all lined up in a rigid, welcoming formation.
The Baron immediately launched into a formal, frantic greeting.
"Your—Your Highness, welcome! It is an immense honor to host a son of the Grand Duke in my humble home. Every preparation has been made for your comfort."
He bowed so low his nose nearly brushed his knees.
I let a beat of silence hang in the air, allowing the weight of my title and my naturally cold expression to settle over him.
"Baron Aldus," I finally replied, my voice cool and even. "I merely require fresh air and a short rest. Ensure my guards are provided for. We depart in two hours."
"At once, Your Highness! At once! Consider this house yours!" he stammered, frantically motioning for his staff to tend to my entourage.
It was just an hour or two rest. Well, here it was.
The brief stop was necessary for my physical stability, but my mind was restless.
I was about to meet my family and needed every piece of information I could get—even how my own powers worked.
But I suddenly felt a bit mischievous to test my trait here.
A cold, calculating impulse, born from my new, detached personality, spurred me to action.
I focused my will to use my trait Silent Dominion directly on every Baron's people.
It wasn't a malicious desire, but a purely scientific one.
I needed to know the reach and strength of this terrifying power.
I focused not on the Baron, but on his guards and the lower servants standing rigidly in the background, projecting my will outward with a precise, mental command.
How evil of me.
The thought was a cynical dismissal; fear was a tool, and I needed to master it.
It worked.
I knew for sure that I didn't manage to project a percent of its true power, yet I could see the effects.
The subtle anxiety that had been present among the Baron's people immediately spiked.
The guards' stances became subtly more rigid, their eyes fixed on the ground with an almost painful intensity.
A young page standing near the door actually swayed slightly, his complexion turning visibly pale.
My uncontrolled Eclipser-ranked trait was a terrifying, palpable force, capable of crushing the will of those around me even when barely engaged.
I immediately withdrew the focus, letting the passive, ambient fear return.
The experiment was a resounding success, and a grim warning. I needed to learn control, and fast.
***
The scent of polished oak and aged parchment filled the spacious study of Baron Aldus.
He was an excellent ruler who rose from a knight to a baron from his achievements.
His steady hand and pragmatic approach to governance had transformed a struggling region into the prosperous town of Veridian.
He had formed a family he loved and made sure the territory flourished.
Under the magistrate of the ruler of the western lands—Grand Duke Caelthar Veyne de Morvaine—the place became even more blooming.
In his study, he was busy with signing documents for approval, his brow furrowed in concentration over a town planning budget, when his head butler came running.
The man, usually the picture of stoic composure, was pale and breathless.
An entourage of House Morvaine was actually stopping by!
"Your Honor! Your Honor, forgive my intrusion!" the butler gasped, clutching his side.
"A Morvaine entourage has just been sighted on the western road! The Grand Duke's banner—it is a large escort, sir!"
Baron Aldus slammed his pen down, splashing ink across the ledger.
"A Morvaine entourage? Stopping here? Why? We received no notification!" he demanded, rising instantly.
The Morvaine family did not stop for anyone, certainly not a minor baron on a casual journey.
This was unprecedented.
"The captain of the escort sent a rider ahead, sir. It is... Prince Draeven Vaelir de Morvaine," the butler whispered, his voice laced with awe and palpable fear.
"He commanded a halt for 'fresh air' and rest. They request two hours in your courtyard."
Aldus felt a sudden, icy wave of panic.
Prince Draeven—the youngest son.
The aloof one.
The one whose reputation was a thing of chilling beauty and extreme silence.