Chapter 33: It is about pride.
The large dining hall buzzed with conversation as nobles from both Aetherlyn and Drakonia sat around the long dining table. But the atmosphere between them was anything but harmonious, there was a calculating gaze everywhere and a hint of substle pride in their eyes, like another party was beneath them.
King Alaric of Aetherlyn sat at one end of the table, his face lined with the stern expression he always wore in political matters. Across from him, King Rhyzar of Drakonia seemed more relaxed, but beneath that casual demeanor, there was an unmistakable sense of authority.
The two kings had been exchanging pleasantries for some time now, but it was clear that beneath their words lay a subtle competition.
"Of course, we’ve seen remarkable growth in our trade routes," King Alaric said with a smug expression while taking a small delebrate sip from his goblet. "Our relations with the southern territories have been nothing short of a triumph. The people of Aetherlyn are reaping the benefits of our success."
King Rhyzar nodded, though the glint in his eyes suggested he wasn’t impressed. "Ah, yes, southern trade. Drakonia has also experienced great prosperity, especially with the northern mines. The wealth from our silver and gold reserves alone has strengthened our kingdom’s position tenfold."
A chuckle rippled through the table, but the underlying tension between the kings was hard to miss. It wasn’t just about trade or wealth—it was about pride. Each king wanted to prove their kingdom’s superiority, and neither was willing to back down.
Queen Selena, who was sitting beside King Alaric, smiled thinly and cast a glance toward Prince Vincent, who was seated further down the table. "Prince Vincent," she began with her voice light but laced with intent, "you’ve grown into quite the figure of leadership, haven’t you? Your presence alone commands attention."
Vincent’s eyes flickered toward her, a small, polite smile gracing his lips. He nodded but said nothing, his attention clearly elsewhere. His gaze drifted across the table toward Prince Dorian, who had been silently observing the entire exchange, his goblet of wine in hand. Their eyes met briefly—but they said nothing.
Dorian was not interested in taking part in this political talk, where every word from their mouth was nothing but obvious lies. He merely took another sip from his goblet, watching the interaction with quiet intensity.
Across from him, Consort Seraphina’s daughter, Lady Sanadi, was clearly trying to catch Vincent’s attention. Her eyes darted toward him several times, and her cheeks were tinged with a soft blush as she admired the Drakonian prince. Despite her best efforts to remain composed, her gaze kept wandering back to Vincent, though he seemed entirely uninterested.