Tragedy of Divinity

Chapter 29: A Night of Words and Agitation

The moonlight spilled across the intricate architecture of Eryndral, casting silver highlights on the tree-like spires of the city. The streets were quieter now, the usual bustle replaced by the soft hum of the nocturnal city. The trio, however, found no rest that evening. A message arrived, delivered by a solemn-faced elven messenger.

"The Princess requests your presence in the Royal Hall," he announced, bowing slightly but keeping his tone formal.

Lucian's irritation was immediate. "Again? What could she possibly want now? We've already given them more time than they deserve."

"Lucian," Seraphine interjected, her tone sharp but restrained. "She's a princess. If we don't go, we'll only make things worse for ourselves."

Quintin, ever the optimist, grinned. "Besides, maybe they'll feed us again. Those glowing fruits weren't bad."

Lucian shot him a glare that could freeze water, but ultimately, he said nothing. With a resigned sigh, he turned toward the palace.

The Royal Hall was even more grandiose at night. Soft, golden light emanated from enchanted lanterns, casting a warm glow over the space. The air carried a faint floral fragrance, and the soft hum of an elven melody played in the background, adding to the ambiance.

The nobles and royals were gathered once more, their elegant attire gleaming under the light. Their gazes turned toward the trio as they entered, but it was clear who they were truly focused on: Lucian.

The princess stood near the Queen's throne, her presence commanding yet not overbearing. She wore a gown of deep green and silver, her golden hair shimmering like sunlight trapped in glass. Her expression was calm, though her eyes held a sharpness that hinted at a deeper intent.

"Welcome," she said, her voice smooth and polite. "I trust the accommodations have been satisfactory?"

Lucian's eyes narrowed. "If you called us here just for pleasantries, I'm leaving."

The murmurs from the nobles grew louder, shocked by his bluntness. The princess, however, seemed unfazed. In fact, there was a faint smirk on her lips.

"Always so… direct," she said, stepping forward. "I admire your candor, even if it borders on rudeness."

Lucian crossed his arms, his annoyance growing. "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, stop wasting my time."

"Very well," the princess said, her tone sharpening slightly. "I summoned you here because there are questions that need answers. And you, Lucian, seem to hold more of those answers than you're willing to admit."

Lucian's jaw tightened. "I've told you everything you need to know. The rest is none of your concern."

The tension in the room was palpable now, the nobles watching the exchange with bated breath. Seraphine shifted slightly, her gaze darting between Lucian and the princess. Quintin, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

The princess took another step closer, her emerald eyes locking onto Lucian's. "You carry an aura that unsettles even the Life Tree. Do you not think that warrants an explanation?"

Lucian's voice was cold and cutting. "I owe you nothing. Least of all an explanation."

The room erupted into whispers, the nobles clearly scandalized by his defiance. The Queen, seated on her throne, raised a hand, silencing them.

"Enough," she said, her voice calm but firm. She turned her gaze to Lucian, her expression unreadable. "You may not owe us an explanation, but understand this: the Nexus is not a place of coincidences. You were brought here for a reason, whether you acknowledge it or not."

Lucian didn't respond, his dark eyes locked onto the Queen's. The tension between them was electric, a silent battle of wills that seemed to freeze the room.

Seraphine, sensing the need to diffuse the situation, stepped forward. "We're here to understand the Nexus, just as much as you are. But if you want cooperation, perhaps you could start by being a bit more forthcoming yourselves."

The princess turned her gaze to Seraphine, her sharpness softening slightly. "You speak with reason, though I suspect your companion prefers the sword to the olive branch."

"Lucian is… direct," Seraphine admitted. "But we all want the same thing: answers. So why don't we start there?"

The Queen regarded her for a moment before nodding. "Very well. Ask your questions."

But before Seraphine could speak, Lucian cut in. "This is a waste of time."

The princess's smirk returned. "And yet, you're still here."

The conversation continued, a tense exchange of words and veiled accusations. The nobles watched with a mixture of fascination and unease, clearly unused to such a volatile dynamic in their otherwise serene court.

By the end of the night, as the trio left the palace, the air between them was thick with unresolved tension.

"You didn't have to antagonize them," Seraphine said, her tone measured but firm.

"They're not worth my respect," Lucian replied coolly.

Quintin, trailing behind, sighed. "Can't we just have one peaceful evening?"

Seraphine ignored him, her gaze focused ahead. Whatever lay ahead, she knew it would only get more complicated. And Lucian, for all his defiance, was at the heart of it.