A Declaration at the Banquet

The kingdom is situated in the center of the continent, so the early mornings in the southern territories were often tinged with a slight chill.

From a guard tower in her family’s castle, Ilisia watched as her father’s vassals led their armies, column after column, across the moat to the assembly camp outside.

For the past two weeks, the constant traffic of men and horses had prompted Duke Wenser to order all the outer city gates raised and the drawbridges over the moat lowered.

A procession of heavily armored pikemen was crossing one of the bridges, their long pikes held upright, the tips glinting sporadically in the morning sun.

Ilisia frowned.

In recent days, she had gleaned from her mother’s fragmented remarks that the rebellion on the border of her father’s domain had grown, but something far more urgent must have occurred.

Otherwise, he would never have summoned so many men.

This morning, the marketplace had been so crammed with soldiers and merchants that it was nearly impossible to move through.

It had been a long time since Ilisia had a proper conversation with her father; their recent interactions had been limited to brief greetings when they crossed paths in the castle.

Duke Wenser’s mood had been sour ever since the tournament.

By all rights, her eldest brother, Charles, who was in his mid-twenties, should have been fulfilling his duties as heir, easing Duke Wenser’s burdens and helping the family navigate its complex affairs…

However, Charles’s interests lay far from politics and intrigue—

He was a romantic, a man who adored poetry and theater.

Charles wrote fine poetry himself and yearned for the beautiful, pure, otherworldly love depicted within its verses.

His life was largely consumed by romantic fantasies.

He often wandered the manor gardens, appeared at the banquets of various families, and lingered in poetic exchanges with noble ladies.

Moreover, Charles’s affections overflowed to the servants as well.

He wrote poems for the maids, took them to plays, walked with them through fields of flowers, and…

Once, Duke Wenser entered Charles’s room to find him in bed with a naked maid…

The girl’s hands and feet were bound, and she lay on her back, an expression of contentment on her face…

‘Is this how the heir to a noble house behaves?’

‘If he were at least devoted to one, his… proclivities might be overlooked. But to switch partners every few days…’

‘What kind of mess was this?’

The Duke was so furious he lost his appetite, scolding Charles incessantly for days.

In the end, he replaced most of Charles’s maids with male servants and elderly women.

Disappointed in Charles, Duke Wenser had focused more on the upbringing of his second son.

As a result, many of the castle’s affairs were now managed by Ilisia’s second brother, Simon Wenser.

Although Simon was not a skilled swordsman, he possessed a sharp mind and a strong sense of duty, proving quite adept at political maneuvering and training troops.

“…”

Ilisia’s thoughts drifted further afield.

She pictured the small Delarose estate and recalled her encounter in the garden a few days prior.

If Bella hadn’t appeared and muddled the situation, Ilisia felt she would have cornered Adrian right then and there, forcing him to take back his words.

‘I’ll get a straight answer out of him sooner or later!’

‘If all else fails, I’ll use my father’s station to compel him…’

Ilisia shook her head, suppressing the dreadful thought for the time being.

Over the past few days, whenever Ilisia had free time after her lessons, she would visit the Delarose estate.

But each time, only Bella was there.

Their meetings were always a clash of rivals, inevitably ending on a sour note.

Adrian hadn’t been lying; after he stopped stargazing, he truly had been occupied with other matters.

At the estate, Ilisia often saw letters arriving from him, sent by raven or messenger from the villages near the city.

As for their contents, which were likely business secrets of some kind, Lady Delarose was never willing to share them with Ilisia, or even with Bella.

“…”

“My lady, it is time for you to change,” a maid reminded her from nearby.

Her father was receiving his vassals today, and as the second daughter of the house, Ilisia was required to attend the evening banquet.

Ilisia pulled her thoughts back to the present, nodded to the servant, and turned to descend the tower…

****

The banquet began smoothly, with the lords in high spirits.

They spoke in loud, booming voices, drinking deeply of fine wine and feasting on beef, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Ilisia was seated beside her sister, some distance from her father, but quite close to her mother.

The seats on either side of Duke Wenser were reserved for his two most powerful vassals—Marquis Vonder and Marquis Stavin.

Both of these old men were considerably older than the Duke.

Ilisia noticed several empty seats on the opposite side of the long table.

They were reserved for guests who were still on the road or attending to business and could not return in time.

During the banquet, several sons of noble houses came to offer Ilisia a toast, and a few even hinted at their intention to ask Duke Wenser for her hand in marriage.

‘Honestly, these men have the worst timing.’

Weariness was etched on Ilisia’s face as she prayed to the heavens that no more young men would approach her, wine cups in hand.

Although her father usually claimed to respect her wishes, the current situation was exceptional.

He might very well agree to a match with any one of these families to secure greater support.

A sense of crisis began to stir within Ilisia.

She felt she had to choose someone quickly, while she still had the choice to make.

The problem was, ever since her capture by the bandits a few days ago, she found herself repulsed by these young men…

There was, of course, one exception.

Her trial was about to begin.

“Ilisia, there is a matter I must discuss with you tonight,” Duke Wenser said, calling her name at the banquet, which was a rare occurrence. “The king has expressed his desire for an alliance with our family through marriage, and the prince has chosen you as his bride.”

“Father, I… I refuse,” Ilisia said.

Her refusal was so swift that the guests seated around the Duke were stunned, their gazes turning toward her.

“Lady Ilisia, the prince is heir to the throne. His station in the kingdom is unparalleled. Do you truly not wish to become the future queen?” Marquis Stavin asked, taking a sip of his wine.

“Most nobles would covet such an alliance, yet you reject it so flippantly,” Marquis Vonder added with a touch of sarcasm.

“Although our prince does have something of a temper…” Marquis Stavin mused.

Duke Wenser, however, was not overly surprised.

Though the benefits of a royal marriage were incredibly tempting, as a father, he still wished to respect his second daughter’s decision.

After all, he had heard the rumors about the prince beating his own servant half to death at the banquet the other day.

Ilisia was already willful enough; an irascible husband would be a terrible match for her.

‘Sigh, why couldn’t Charles have been born a girl?’

‘He’s just asking for someone with a fiery temper to set him straight!’

A strange thought crossed the Duke’s mind, but he ultimately just shook his head with a sigh of resignation, dismissing it.

‘Let’s hear what my daughter has to say.’

Duke Wenser looked at Ilisia earnestly, waiting to hear her reasoning.

“I have already given my heart to someone,” Ilisia declared, her voice rising.

At these words, the scions of the noble houses seated at the long table all looked up.

The young men who had just professed their admiration for her were now watching with rapt attention, each hoping that their brief encounter had somehow captured the Duke’s daughter’s fancy.

“Who is he?” Duke Wenser asked, his expression grave.

“You know him, Father.” Ilisia turned her body toward Duke Wenser, who sat at the head of the table. She took a deep breath, preparing to say the name.

The murmur of conversation gradually died down as all eyes converged on Ilisia, everyone eager to learn the identity of this fortunate man.

Ilisia’s childhood companions held their breath.

‘Could it be me?’

‘Ilisia had always been kind to everyone since they were children. Even when she was angry or willful, she would always apologize afterward…’

“He is Adrian Delarose!” Ilisia announced in a clear, loud voice.