Chapter 373: The Festival For The Mountain Tribes
Lyan stood in one of the castle’s many rooms, overlooking the preparations happening outside the window. He could hear the distant sounds of people bustling, laughter, and the occasional call of a vendor. Grafen was transforming in a way he had always imagined it could, filled with joy and color. For a city that had known pain, today was a day of renewal.
"Lyan! Chief! Look at us!" Lara’s voice called from behind him, her excitement infectious. He turned around, his eyes meeting the sight of three mountain tribe women he had taken under his care. Lara, Tara, and Sigrid stood before him, each dressed in their traditional robes.
Their festival robes were beautiful—elaborate patterns of mountain symbols stitched with vibrant threads, the colors shifting as they moved. Deep reds, forest greens, sky blues, and golden yellows all mixed in swirling designs that represented the seasons of their homeland. Lara’s robe was bright with scarlet and gold, the intricate embroidery emphasizing her tan skin. Tara’s robes, in contrast, were adorned in earthy browns and green, her brown hair tied back neatly, giving her an elegant yet grounded appearance. Sigrid wore a more dominant blue and silver pattern, her blonde hair flowing freely as the wind blew through the open window.
Lyan couldn’t help but let his eyes linger for a second longer, and he quickly cleared his throat, putting on what he hoped was a neutral expression. "You three look... absolutely stunning," he said, trying to keep his eyes above their shoulders and not on the curves that were unmistakably highlighted by the way the robes were fitted.
Sigrid smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes as if she was very much aware of his struggle. "We prepared these just for the festival, Chief. We wanted to represent our tribe well, to show our pride in our traditions. Does it suit us?"
Lyan nodded, his smile widening. "It suits you perfectly, Sigrid. You all represent your people beautifully." He could see the excitement in their eyes and feel the innocence of their joy. They had left the mountains to follow him, trusting him as their "great chief." That responsibility weighed on him, but seeing them like this, happy and eager, made him feel it was all worth it.
"Chief," Sigrid said as she stepped closer, her expression softening, "we can’t thank you enough for this. Opening the city, making this festival possible... it means the world to us. You didn’t just give us a place to live; you gave our people a bridge to a new life."
Lyan turned to look out the window again. Below them, the streets were filled with colorful decorations and stalls, the townsfolk mingling with those from the mountains. The gates were open—not just of the castle, but of the city. He wanted to offer a chance for integration, for those who wished to find work, trade, or even settle in the city. It was a way for them to grow together, to learn from each other, and to find strength in unity.
"It’s nothing, Sigrid," Lyan said, his voice low. "I’m happy to help, truly. It’s the least I can do." He felt her gaze on him and turned his head just slightly to meet her eyes.