Chapter 771: Your Highness
The hall shifted like breath drawn in.
Not loud. Not dramatic.
Just... sharp.
The way air moves before a storm.
And then—he appeared.
Lucien Arcturus Lysandra.
The Crown Prince of Arcanis.
He did not stride in like a man entering his home.
He arrived like gravity.
Tall. Still. Unhurried.
His banquet attire was nothing short of artistry—deep violet tailored to precise imperial lines, framed in obsidian-black threading that shimmered faintly under the hall’s enchanted light. The inner lining of his coat bore warding sigils so subtly sewn they read like whispers of authority—undeniable, if you knew how to see. His gloves were a shade of porcelain white, unmarred, bearing the imperial crest in embossed silver on each wrist.