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Chapter Twenty-Two

The Dupar Territory was riddled with rivers. The water bridges and special magic Bariels used to prevent disasters and guide ships safely through this area earned them the title of Viscount. And like many noble families who'd grown fat on trade and managing their land, they started to see themselves as small kings.

Having the ability to decide a person's life and death was an addictive thing.

Power corrupts.

Like any family in the noble circle, their monopoly of something was the only reason they hadn't been swiftly scraped off the bottom of the Lixal Empire's boot.

I leaned back and watched as the night view passed by. The Bailes family had bought a small estate for their beloved son, who attended Frekian Academy. And it is evident from the golden gates to the well-kept grounds that Crawford Bailes saw himself as a prince of his kingdom.

If the statue of the founding emperor was anything to go by, only those in the royal family or related could have his statue on their lands.

Seeing this made me smile.

"She's smiling again. I don't think I should have come," Amoux muttered from where he sat. His long legs were crossed, and for once, he wasn't wearing his uniform or dressed in all black. He wore a stylish black fit decorated with silvery threading, gloves, and polished boots. His thick black hair was swept back, showing his cantankerous, handsome features. "If you get me caught up in some national scandal, I'm going to make you crawl for me," he paused and added, "Princess."

"Amoux, are you sure you're not trying to commit suicide speaking to her like that," Sena asked, his gold eyes twinkling with humor. "If you're trying to get killed, please antagonize her when I'm not around."

I was honored to choose his clothes, as he was a commoner. The clothing I'd gone with was, maybe, a smidge, a bit, selected because I'd always wanted to see my ex wear it. The clothing of dark blue and white accents highlighted his noble features and deep eyes.

It showed off his muscular frame to perfection.

"If you're a coward, just say that," Amoux sullenly said.

Sena's brows tightened, "what?"

I observed them and didn't stop them from their small argument. Watching them, I found myself drifting back to the days when this scenario of me sitting in front of two men wouldn't have ever happened. Both people would have been disgusted with the princess I'd been then.

My time with them would be short, and soon, I'd have to turn my attention to the actual fight. After all, if my life and death were only focused on the horrifying things to come long before a sword removed my head.

There is a war coming that will erupt on our land and many others to come.

"Princess, Zorya, are you okay?"

Sena's question disrupted my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I eyed him, "I'm fine, just trying to guess whether or not one of you has ever skipped along the Lilly path-." "Princess!"

"Hmm," I hummed and glanced from Sena's red face to Amoux, who jerked his eyes from mine. "Don't tell me...aren't you both older than me?"

"What does age have to do with it," Amoux snapped, baring his teeth at me like an upset puppy.

I tilted my head and raised a brow, "Well—age has almost everything to do with it. When you, a young man, reach a certain age, your body starts to change, and we call this puberty." A hand landed over my mouth.

Amoux, tired of me, had jumped from his seat to mine and covered my mouth. I pursed my lips and grinned. I was eyeing his embarrassed expression.

"Princess, if you still want Sena and me to escort you to this party, I suggest you stop talking."

The pressure of his hand against my lips surprised me.

Aside from Scarlette taking care of me, or when I initiated it...I wasn't touched. I thought at one point I'd be disgusted by human touch, male touch. The mere idea of being under a man's power would make me sick, and my stomach would turn at the mere graze.

But that wasn't the case, and the smell of Amoux was fresh like wind. It made sense, with the way he seemed to come and go, with nothing holding him down aside from his vows and the collar that graced his neck.

I hummed, signaling I would do what he said, and he removed his hand. Instead of moving to the other side of the carriage, he remained by my side.

Turning away from him, I tapped my chin and couldn't help muttering. "Interesting," under my breath.

I felt the carriage come to a stop. The door on my side opened, revealing Dalton, who put his hand out for me to hold. Usually, I would use this as a chance to tease him, but my focus was on something else.

The smell was light and sweet, and it caught my attention. Soon, the smell was accompanied by the sight of my sister. She wore a light pink gown with pink diamonds decorating her ears as my ex escorted her up the steps.

I paused at the sight of the dress she wore.

A dress that I would never forget.

"P-princess, my hand."

Startled, I abruptly turned my attention to Dalton, whose expression held a painful look. I glanced down and realized I was squeezing his hand, my nails digging into it. Yanking my hand away, I hurriedly said, "Sorry, thank you."

Forcing myself to calm down, I lowered my hand and smiled. "I'll ensure you get compensation for my clawing you."

He stared, and the looks in his eyes flickered past before he lowered them. "No need."

I wanted to say something else, but Sena and Amoux, who'd alighted from the carriage, and took my hand.

Amoux impatiently tugging me along, "Enough, let's get this done."

I swallowed the words I wanted to say to him and let them escort me up the marble steps, each step had a formally dressed guard. Each wore a pendant that dictated that they were members of the Bailes navy.

I leaned over and whispered to Sena, "Don't you think it's interesting how many soldiers the Bailes have to spare to guard their little lord?"

Sena followed my gaze, frowned, and looked over his shoulder. He saw the line of guards along the road leading to the gold gate. "Did this lord suffer some sort of accident?" he asked, returning his attention to me.

"Maybe," I whispered as we reached the landing.

I settled a light hand on his shoulder, "Both you and Amoux will notice my character change. Move accordingly."

The two stared at me in confusion.

The seventh princess, Zorya Argyos, wasn't the young woman they met at the Academy. It was time to acquaint themselves with the real me.

I released Amoux's hand and walked into the building. The bright lights bounced off the chests of men and women who wore their best jewelry. Their soft laughter and whispered gossip filled the large ballroom. My pleasant nature slowed to a halt as I reached the top of the steps, and leaning over, I spoke my name and title to the majordomo.

The man stiffened, and I saw his pale skin turn red under the bright candlelight.

Stiffly, he stuttered. "H-Her Highness, the Seventh Princess Zorya Argyos, first of her name, has arrived. Bow!"
Those students who had mocked me and kept their distance turned their attention to me. Their expressions were stiff with confusion and surprise; they were all frozen.

My gown was made with the combined royal colors of Lixal and Nycturian—colors only someone with my blood could wear. The jewelry I wore was the necklace that only three women had worn, and they all had been empresses with infinite power.

My presence caused them all to remember just where they stood on the totem pole in this empire. Even I, the hated and scorned, had to be treated with care and respect.

"Are you not going to bow in the face of royal blood?"

Amoux lazily asked loud enough for all those who'd ceased to speak to flinch. "Asking for death," he snapped.

The nobles straightened, and like a wave, they all bowed and curtsied.

I kept my expression cold, and without holding either Sena or Amoux's hand, I descended, and as I did, I spoke softly. "In the Lixal Empire, six families do not have to bow when they meet those of Royal Argyos blood. Broves, Claril, Oatwind, Wardew, and Raulles." I stopped on the last step, surveyed the heads bowed, and slowly looked at the men behind my sister. "Is there anyone here with those surnames?"

I heard no response.

"Lord Bailes Heir apparent, I asked a question. Are you not going to answer it?"

Crawford Bailes hurriedly straightened his pale expression of fear, which pleased me. He wasn't ugly, with deep green eyes and curly brown hair, but his indulgence made him appear soft and gloomy. "N-No, none of those families were invited tonight. This was meant to be an intimate affair for those attending our school—" "Oh, aren't both Gordon Oatwind and Seigfried Claril in our year?"

I curled my lips in a slow smile. "As your princess, I can be benevolent and overlook your child-like behavior at the academy. But you shouldn't forget the reality of your status beyond the gates of Frekian Academy."

I gently reached out and tapped his cheek. "Rise."

And all of those who'd been forced to remain curtsied and bowed shot me looks of anger. "Not all royals are bored enough to play kind to those beneath them," I added.

With that, I boldly strolled into the ballroom and passed Bailes. I could hear him curse under his breath. It's too bad for him. If he thought my behavior was now frustrating, he'd have been genuinely crying once I pulled out the fireworks.

Ahhh, I loved tearing these people apart.

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