Chapter 362 - 354: Willandar

Chapter 362: Chapter 354: Willandar

The Quiet Court.

The residence of Prince Willandar Orange was situated on a secluded island in the southwestern corner of the Royal Capital.

No one had spoken the island’s name in a long time. It was once the royal family’s most brilliant pearl. During grand festivals, the most lavish banquets were always held in its gardens, where the nobles’ laughter and merriment would last from sunset until dawn.

But that was ten years ago.

Now, only silence remained.

The stone bridge connecting to the main island was overgrown with moss, neither maintained nor traversed. In the gardens, the fountains had long run dry and the statues were tangled in vines. Only the occasional bird would stop to rest for a moment.

The mansion itself, however, maintained a basic sense of decorum. The three-story white building still looked dignified in the sunlight, but its curtains were drawn tight, as if its master wished to shut himself off from the entire world.

Inside the mansion, in the third-floor study.

Prince Willandar sat behind a long table piled high with letters from the Empire.

He picked one up. The letter was on high-grade evergreen linen paper, exuding the faint scent of ink and anti-humidity spices.

The letter was penned in the exceedingly complex Imperial court script, where ornate curves and decorative strokes intertwined, making the very act of reading an ordeal.

His gaze lingered on one section where the script was even more convoluted, as if the writer had deliberately used florid prose to conceal something hollow or unmentionable.

Willandar set the letter down, leaned back in his chair, and let out a sigh.

His thoughts drifted back to the Imperial Capital—a cage forged from gold and power.

He thought of his cousin, the current Emperor. They had once hunted together in the royal forests and discussed Knights and philosophy beneath the stars. But at some point, his cousin’s words had become concerned only with the Empire’s domain and an iron fist, leaving no room for starlight.

Their differences had driven them further and further apart.

Until one late night, when he’d accidentally overheard two ministers whispering in the shadows outside the council chamber.

"...The Bloody Edict..."

"...As for the Duchy, it’s time for a thorough cleansing..."

"...Let them learn true submission in blood..."

Soon after, he had used the excuse of poor health to leave the false glamour of the Imperial Capital and return to the Duchy, the land he truly considered his home.

Yet, no matter how he leveraged his remaining connections to investigate, he couldn’t find a single clue about the "Bloody Edict."

Everything was terrifyingly quiet.

It was as if those whispers in the night had been nothing but a figment of his imagination.

"Your Highness."

The butler’s voice came from outside the door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Countess Diana of the Dawn Territory has come to call."

Willandar was somewhat surprised. He had been refusing all visitors since his return to the Royal Capital, and everyone had tacitly agreed to forget about the "Quiet Court."

"Let her in."

A moment later, the study door was pushed open.

Diana entered. She wore a riding habit suitable for travel, her long golden hair tied back in a neat braid. Perhaps due to the journey, a faint blush colored her fair cheeks, and her lake-blue eyes seemed especially bright in the dimly lit study.

"Uncle Willandar." She gave a slight curtsy, her posture impeccable.

"Little Diana." Willandar stood, a genuine smile breaking through the melancholy on his brow. "What wind blew you here? I thought all you young people had forgotten about this old man."

"I came to the Royal Capital to handle some territorial affairs and to deliver a letter for Roland," Diana said, retrieving a wax-sealed letter from her satchel and handing it over. "Count Sun also urged me to deliver this to you personally."

Willandar took the letter but didn’t look at it, simply placing it casually on the table next to the pile of letters from the Empire.

"I’m more concerned about you than a letter from that boy Roland." He sat back down and gestured for Diana to do the same. "Sit, don’t just stand there. How is the Dawn Territory? I’ve heard a few scattered rumors, about vassals and... some unpleasantness."

Diana’s back straightened instinctively.

"It’s all been resolved, Uncle," she replied, her answer short and firm. "The Dawn Territory is fine now. Better than ever, in fact."

"Is that so?" Willandar studied her carefully.

He noticed that his nominal niece had indeed shed the immaturity and anxiety of the past few years, replaced by a settled confidence in her eyes. It wasn’t a feigned strength, but a sense of peace that came from deep within.

"From the look of you, you don’t seem to be worrying about your territory. It looks more like something good has happened." He suddenly changed the subject, leaning forward slightly with the characteristic slyness of an elder. "So, tell me. Which brilliant young man has captured the heart of our dear Countess of the Dawn Territory?"

"Th-That’s not true!"

Diana’s cheeks flushed instantly. She waved her hands in denial, her movements flustered.

"Uncle, please don’t joke about this!"

"Oh?" Willandar grew even more intrigued. "But your eyes don’t lie. Let your uncle guess... is it a valiant Knight who upholds the chivalric code? Someone like Roland?"

Diana shook her head.

"Then... a learned and brilliant Mage or scholar?"

Diana shook her head faster this time, though the movement was much smaller.

"Neither..." she retorted softly, lacking conviction. "He’s just... a friend. A very special friend."

"A ’frieeeend’?" Willandar drew out the word. Seeing Diana’s flustered expression, wanting to explain but not knowing where to start, he finally couldn’t help but laugh.

"Alright, alright, a friend it is." He waved his hand, stifling his laughter, but the warmth and admiration in his eyes only deepened. "But I’m telling you now, Little Diana, if the day ever comes that you decide to discuss marriage with this ’special friend,’ you must bring him to me. I have to vet him for you personally."

"Uncle!" Diana stood up, both embarrassed and annoyed.

"I... I have other things to attend to, so I’ll be taking my leave!"

She gave a hasty curtsy and fled the study.

Willandar watched her retreating back, the smile on his face slowly fading, replaced by a long sigh. He picked up the letter from the Empire again, his gaze falling once more on the ambiguous passage.

Silence returned to the study.

Diana walked briskly across the moss-covered stone bridge. The clamor of the Royal Capital, carried on the breeze, rushed to meet her, cooling her burning cheeks.

She raised a hand to touch her face, which still felt hot.

Uncle Willandar’s teasing smile still lingered in her mind, but it was soon replaced by another face.

A calm, rational face, one that always held a hint of inquiry, and a pair of unique, wine-red amber eyes.

She pulled a folded piece of paper from her sleeve pocket.

The paper was of ordinary quality, but the handwriting upon it was strong and forceful.

It was a letter from Velin.

Besides a simple greeting, the letter only stated the time and place of a meeting.

’Though I’m loath to admit it, this is the real reason I’ve come to the Royal Capital.’

Diana stuffed the letter back into her sleeve and took a deep breath as if to steel herself. She got her bearings, quickened her pace, and merged into the endless stream of people on the street.