Chapter 89: Beneath The Eastern Skies (2)
The Grand Ceremonial Ball later that night erupted in all its glory.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled like captured stars, casting warm golden light across the grand hall.
Soft music from a live orchestra floated through the air, mingling with the scent of fine wines, roasted delicacies, and blooming flowers.
Nobles and young heirs from across the Continents danced gracefully on the polished marble floor, laughter and elegant conversation filling the space.
Melvin, dressed in fine black and silver formal wear that still felt slightly too large on his small frame, moved between dances with wide-eyed wonder.
He shared meals at long banquet tables and engaged in surprisingly lively discussions with the other young heirs.
For a boy of only seven, he was remarkably articulate, his bright, curious eyes sparkling as he passionately shared ideas to strengthen trade routes and improve people’s lives.
Many smiled and nodded at him with genuine fondness.
Elara stayed close by his side the entire evening, watching over him with quiet, protective pride. Every so often, she would gently rest a hand on his shoulder, her warmth grounding him amid the grandeur.
Despite the joy and excitement bubbling warmly in his chest, Melvin could have never imagined that tonight... was only the beginning—the very first blooming of inevitable, poisonous seeds that would one day shatter his entire world.
-----
Later in the evening, the Kings and Queens quietly excused themselves, retreating to a more private meeting chamber and leaving the younger generation to enjoy the rest of the night freely.
Melvin and Elara sat together at one of the side tables draped in deep navy cloth, enjoying a shared plate of honeyed fruits, delicate pastries, and sweet cream.
The young boy was still buzzing with energy, his small legs swinging slightly beneath the table as he recounted his favorite dance of the night with animated gestures.
Then, a tall, handsome young man approached their table — the Prince of Loria.
His black-and-brown formal attire was impeccable, tailored perfectly to his frame, and he carried himself with practiced, almost predatory charm.
"Lady Elara," the Prince said with a smooth bow, extending his gloved hand. "Would you honor me with a dance?"
Melvin glanced up at the older boy.
For a brief instant, their eyes locked.
Behind the Prince’s courteous smile, something sharp and calculating flickered — cold and unsettling.
A strange ripple of unease passed through young Melvin’s chest, though he couldn’t quite understand why.
He kept his thoughts to himself, choosing silence as he watched carefully.
Elara responded to the request with a calm yet determined smile, her tone gentle but unwavering.
"Thank you for the offer, Your Highness, but I’m afraid I must pass. I gave my word to my little brother that he’d have the honor of this next dance."
The Prince took the rejection gracefully, his smile never faltering.
"Of course. Another time, perhaps." As he turned to leave, he passed a subtle message to one of his father’s waiting aides.
’Let the King know... Step one is complete. She declined the dance.’
----
Meanwhile, in a grand but secluded meeting hall deep within the venue, the Kings and Queens of the Continents gathered around a long obsidian table.
Soft, heavenly lanterns drifted lazily beneath the ceiling, bathing the room in a warm, intimate light.
The rich aroma of aged wine mingled with the sweet, smoky fragrance of incense, wrapping the air in a heady embrace.
King Blackwood, a dignified man with deep black hair and striking white eyes, leaned back slightly in his chair.
A gentle, sincere smile touched his lips as he addressed the gathering.
"I must say, this year’s ball feels particularly vibrant," he began, voice warm and measured. "The energy among the younger generation is promising. How are you all finding the evening so far?"
Several rulers responded with polite remarks.
The King of Val let out a hearty laugh and said, "Splendid as always, though I suspect my son has already devoured half the dessert table."
Another queen, wearing a sly smile, delivered what could be taken as a backhanded compliment...
"Your people certainly know how to host with... modest elegance."
The Queen of Blackwood sat beside her husband, her long black hair streaked with elegant white strands, her own white eyes calm and kind.
She listened attentively, offering soft, gracious replies when addressed.
All the while, the King and Queen of Loria sat across the table, sharing a private mental conversation.
The King took a slow sip from his glass, a faint smile touching his lips as he spoke.
’My Queen... just two more catalysts. That’s all we need.’
’But tell me, how certain are we, truly, of the Ancestor’s Star of Victory?’
In her thoughts, the Queen replied, calm but cautious.
’It has never failed our bloodline before. Yet the Blackwoods... they hold fast to their peace and isolation with such stubborn resolve. We must act with precision.’
As the meeting flowed, the King of Loria suddenly spoke up, directing his words solely toward King Blackwood with a seemingly casual tone.
"My friend, have you ever considered opening permanent trade outposts along our shared borders? It could prove... mutually beneficial."
King Blackwood offered a polite smile and shook his head.
"A generous offer, but we prefer to maintain our current self-sufficient ways. Thank you for thinking of us."
The conversation carried on for a while, and more wine was poured.
A few light chuckles rose as another ruler shared a minor anecdote.
The atmosphere remained civil on the surface, yet the underlying currents of ambition and caution were palpable.
Hours slipped by as proposals were raised, debated lightly, and set aside.
Later, after the conversation had circled through several more topics, the Queen of Loria leaned forward slightly and posed her own question, once again aimed only at the Blackwood King.
"And what of cultural exchange programs? Surely allowing our scholars and yours to study together would enrich both kingdoms?"
Once again, King Blackwood declined with graceful patience.
"Your vision is admirable, but we value our quiet traditions. Still, we appreciate the thought."
With that, the King and Queen of Loria smiled inwardly as they sipped from their wine glasses.
In that moment, a glow so faint passed through his eyes that even they almost missed it. But that was all the confirmation they needed.
’It... it worked!’ the King of Loria exclaimed inwardly.
’Indeed... now we can have our fun~’ she thought, her gaze lingering on the King of Blackwood.
’And we’re one step closer to becoming the first Empire on Kalpa.’
----
For years after that Grand Ceremonial Ball, nothing outwardly changed for the Blackwood Kingdom.
They remained true to their nature — peaceful, self-sufficient, and gently secluded.
They maintained their longstanding alliances with quiet reliability and focused inward on the steady growth of their people.
Fields flourished, knowledge deepened, and the kingdom prospered in its own quiet way.
Yet that very peace had slowly begun to dull Melvin’s once-bright drive.
By the time he turned eleven, the boy who once burned with ambition now lived the comfortable life of a beloved prince.
He trained far less than before, preferring instead to spend his days exploring the royal gardens, reading adventurous tales, and enjoying the warmth of his family.
He wasn’t arrogant or spoiled — he was simply loved, protected, and perhaps a little naive to the sharper edges of the world.
One quiet afternoon in the grand throne room, soft sunlight filtered through tall stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors in gentle hues of gold and sapphire.
Queen Blackwood sat gracefully on her throne, her long black hair streaked with elegant white strands framing her kind face and striking white eyes.
Beside her stood Elara, now twenty-two and radiant with poise, and young Melvin, lounging casually on the steps leading up to the thrones.
The Queen of Loria had come for a friendly visit and was currently smiling warmly at Melvin, her gaze almost lovingly amused as she observed the boy.
"My dear Melvin," she said with a teasing lilt, "you are already eleven years old and only at Tier 4? When exactly do you plan to stop lazing about and start becoming the powerful prince we all know you can be?"
Melvin scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin, cheeks slightly flushed.
"Mother... I train sometimes... but it’s just nice to enjoy things for a while."
Elara laughed softly, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately.
"Mother, don’t tease him too much. He’s still my sweet little star."
King Blackwood, seated on his throne with a gentle smile, chimed in with deep fondness.
"He will find his drive when the time is right. For now, let him enjoy his childhood." He said with a nod.
"We all know how rare it is for children to live freely... Besides, our family has always valued peace over haste."
The atmosphere in the throne room was warm and loving — filled with light laughter, familial teasing, and the kind of easy affection that came from years of genuine care.
Then, the heavy doors of the throne room opened.
An envoy from the Loria Kingdom stepped inside, bowing deeply before presenting a sealed golden invitation.
"Your Majesties," the envoy announced respectfully, "His Majesty, the King of Loria, requests the presence of King Blackwood for a special meeting.
He claims the discussion could alter the entire landscape of power across the world."
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