The black lacquer of the Eirian royal carriage, sleek and imposing, swallowed Kiara, Akira, and Ramone whole as it pulled away from Capril Academy.
Inside, the air was thick, heavy with unspoken words and the lingering tension of the duel, a silent testament to the princess's formidable skill.
The plush velvet seats, offered little comfort against the unease that settled in the carriage, especially with the seats in the back almost covered in darkness.
Ramone sat opposite Kiara, her sharp, intelligent eyes reflecting the dim light, while Akira, positioned beside him, remained a silent observer, her gaze darting between them like a trapped bird.
The faintest shuffling sound from the shadowy seats in the back stirred a sense of someone—something—lurking there, but no one acknowledged it aloud.
The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels and the muffled sounds of the city provided a strange, almost hypnotic backdrop to their tense silence.
Outside, the streets of Capril blurred past, a tapestry of bustling life seen through the carriage's tinted windows. The evening light casted long shadows, painting the cobblestone streets in hues of gold and grey.
As they passed the streets near the academy, a group of students, still buzzing from the duel, paused to watch the carriage departing.
"Did you see her move?" one whispered, eyes wide. "Like a shadow, she was!"
Further down, in the heart of the market district, the carriage slowed, weaving through the crowded streets. Vendors hawked their wares in a chorus of voices, while townsfolk bustled past, preoccupied with the burdens of daily life.
A young boy, no more than ten, pointed at the carriage in wide-eyed wonder.
"Look, Ma! It's the royal carriage!"
His mother, a woman with weary eyes and calloused hands, pulled him close.
"Aye, that it is. Best keep out of their way, lad."
An old woman, her face wrinkled like a sun-dried plum, paused her conversation with a neighbor and nodded towards the carriage.
"Eirian, isn't it?" she muttered, her voice laced with an inkling of suspicion. "Wonder what they're doing here."
A young man, his face flushed with excitement, nudged his companion.
"Heard they're here for the reunification meeting. Imagine.. Atteria and Eiria, one kingdom again!"
His companion, a more cynical sort, scoffed. "Don't get your hopes up. Those aristocrats will never agree to that."
As the carriage pressed on, the market's vibrant energy faded into the cold austerity of the noble district. Stone mansions, their facades adorned with intricate carvings, loomed over pristine avenues. The air grew heavier, thick with the weight of tradition and power.
Inside the carriage, Ramone finally broke the uneasy silence.
"Sensei? You called my father 'Sensei.' What's that about?"
"Eleven years ago," Kiara began, her sharp purple eyes met his. "Your father, Giovanni-Sensei, took me under his wing, when he was with the Continental Border Assault Regiment at our north border. He trained me in the art of the sword."
"I knew he was stationed there," Ramone admitted, a flicker of surprise in his voice. "But to train you…"
"Indeed, Mari-san. C-BAR soldiers rarely cross into sovereign nations, except for emergencies. But my father allowed Sensei to be an exception at times. "
She paused, her expression briefly touched with nostalgia. "Most of my training required arduous journeys to the northern border. But it was a worthy sacrifice."
"He was a master," she continued, voice laced with reverence. "His techniques were extraordinary—precise, ruthless, yet imbued with a deep understanding of the human element. He taught me to anticipate, to adapt, to exploit the tremors of an opponent's intent."
Ramone grinned. "He's even better when he uses his magecraft."
Kiara's gaze softened. "He used to speak of the world beyond the palace walls, beyond even the borders. Tales of forgotten ruins, uncharted territories… a world of endless possibilities."
A flicker of recognition sparked in Ramone's eyes. "That's… that's the father I know. The one who filled my head with stories of lost civilizations and hidden knowledge."
A wistful smile tugged at his lips.
"I never got the whole 'lions of the world's borders' thing, though. It was always his curiosity, his thirst for exploration, that truly inspired me."
"When he became the vice president of the World Council, it was like he was a different person entirely."
Kiara paused for a moment before replying.
"We share that– the weight of duty, the suffocating expectations… I understand your desire to escape. To explore."
Ramone studied her carefully. "Yet you won't. You'll accept the throne, won't you?"
Kiara nodded, her expression resolute.
"It is my duty. To honor tradition. To uphold the legacy of my ancestors. And… I believe I can make a difference. I believe I can unite the fractured kingdom of Irie and bring peace to our people."
Ramone exhaled, his gaze drifting to the passing cityscape. The noble district's grandeur was giving way to the towering palace walls.
"I believe I can find a way to explore the world. To not be chained to a throne."
Their conversation settled into a comfortable silence, a fragile understanding hanging between them.
Then, as if summoned by the returned silence, a strange sensation prickled at the edges of their awareness—a subtle unease, like a shifting breeze or a whisper on the wind.
It was only when the faintest giggle reached their ears that they realized it was not the city air causing the stir.
From the dim recesses of the carriage, a high-pitched giggle shattered the silence completely.
A painted smile grotesque in the dim light, materialized from the shadows of the carriage, accompanied by bells jingling and eyes wide with manic energy.
"Ah, the princess! Or princesses, if I might. And the wanderer's son," the figure sang, its voice an eerie melody and its eyes gleaming with mischief.
"How delightful! How... delicate, these fates entwined like threads in the web of destiny."
Ramone recoiled, instinctively gripping the hilt of his practice blade, his body tensing at the sight of the unsettling figure behind him.
Why didn't I sense his mana?
The question hammered in his mind, relentless and accusing, while cold dread crept up his spine, tightening his chest like a vice.
He'd spent years honing his sensitivity, believing he could feel even the faintest ripple of mana. Yet, this person was a void, a presence without a trace.
Is he that skilled?
Akira's breath hitched beside him, her grip on his arm tightening as she instinctively leaned closer to him, as though seeking protection, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and confusion.
A shared glance, and he realized that she too had noticed the unnerving absence.
"Who the hell are you, and what are you talking about?" Ramone demanded, his voice sharper, edged with a fear he refused to acknowledge.
Kiara, however, didn't flinch. Her gaze remained steady, though there was a neutral shift in her expression as she studied the figure, the faintest narrowing of her eyes as she recognized the voice.
"What do you want, Grand Jester?"
"Ah, Kiara, always so composed." Grand Jester's grin widened, revealing unnaturally sharp teeth. "The border's echo sings louder for you, princess."
"The Ides of March approach, and the music plays for all!" He swirled about with a red ball in his hand, his form flickering like a mirage, eyes fixated on Kiara as though they shared some secret.
Kiara squinted in confusion, her gaze fixed on Grand Jester.
"What do you mean by 'border's echo'?" she demanded, her voice steady.
"History flaps its wings, princess, and the wind stirs chaos in lands far beyond your sight."
He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "The smallest ripple—an unsheathed practice blade, a single word—can unravel fate's careful web. And oh, what a web we weave when we do not know the spider's name."
Ramone frowned, his heart pounding.
"Speak normal." he begged.
He cast a quick glance at Akira, who was now visibly shaken, her eyes darting between the jester and Kiara.
Akira's grip on Ramone's arm tightened as if she were afraid that the jester would suddenly reach out and snatch them both into some dark fate.
Grand Jester cackled. "A sword is drawn in Capril, and across the seas, an empire trembles. The butterfly flaps its wings at a border, and crowns fall in kingdoms far away."
His voice spiraled into a lilting hum. "So tell me, wanderer's son… what happens when the border whispers your name?"
Ramone's attempt at interpreting the jester's riddles only confused him further. His eyebrows knitted as he shook his head in dismissal of a connection between his duel with Princess Kiara and a potential fallout in unrelated kingdoms.
Before Ramone could reply, the carriage lurched to a halt, the palace gates ahead, thick with anticipation as onlookers outside lament their arrival.
The crowd parted, granting them passage, bringing the looming structure of the palace into a frontal view.
It stood as a stark reminder of the power that waited within.
As the carriage rumbled to a final stop, Grand Jester's enigmatic words hung heavy in the air, clinging to them like an unseen weight.
"Princess Akira, lord Ramone, Your Highness Princess Kiara– we have arrived at the Atterian Royal Palace."
Kiara gave the royal guards an appreciative salute.
"Thank you all for you service."
Then she look at Ramone deep in thought and Akira who had a worried expression on her face, "Let's go. The fool is nothing compared to what's coming next."
Ramone resheathed his blade and exited the carriage, his mind tangled in Grand Jester's prophecy—the webs of fate, the butterfly's wings.
He looked back to the carriage questioningly as Akira followed, her expression mirroring his. Their eyes darted to Kiara, whose face betrayed nothing.
The jester had vanished, leaving them adrift in a sea of questions.