Legacy of a Benevolent Lord
Chapter 28: Two Maids for a piece of Scroll.

Chapter 28: Two Maids for a piece of Scroll.

"The Murong family’s ’Star-Shifting Technique," Gongsun Qian said solemnly.

He could barely look at Riven now. He felt like he was standing in front of the very source of all Light.

So bright.

So grand.

Ever since he entered the main hall, he had felt his heart in his throat.

Aren’t they both Innate creatures?

What the heck was this disparity?

He even started doubting if he was actually Innate. Maybe he was a fake?

Normal body movements were slow. He felt like he was in some kind of Muddy Marsh.

Riven raised a brow, looking at the struggling man.

He intentionally did not rein in his aura and let it unfurl in full like a blooming golden lotus..

His handsome features were as calm as still water, but an amused glint flickered in his eyes.

Without much ceremony, he beckoned the servant to accept it and set it aside.

His gaze drifted lazily to the two young girls standing demurely nearby.

Azhula.

Azira.

Both were delicate, refined, like finely cultivated orchids.

Azhula took a quick peek at him but quickly lowered her head, feeling a warm blush spread across her cheeks.

Azira didn’t even move. She was there like a statue.

Riven gave a small chuckle under his breath.

"Your master really went all out," he said, smiling thinly.

Still, he accepted the "gifts" without protest.

He had no intention of mentioning the missing parts of the ’Evil-Repelling Sword Manual.’

"Be careful cultivating that manual," he said lightly to Gongsun Qian before the man left.

Gongsun Qian smiled politely, offered a few pleasantries, and quickly took his leave.

Before departing, however, he shot Azhula a meaningful look.

The meaning was clear: Get close to the prince. Find the missing technique.

After they were gone.

Riven set his teacup down.

He leaned forward slightly, voice low and commanding.

"From now on, you are part of my household. There’s no need to dwell on the past. Understand?"

Azhula and Azira quickly knelt, and their heads bowed.

"Yes, Your Highness!"

Riven nodded in satisfaction and summoned a steward.

"Find them a place to stay. Treat them well."

The steward bowed and led the two girls away toward the Green Plum Cottage.

........

Later that day.

On the upper floor of the Manor. In Riven’s ’penthouse’, if you wanna call it.

Standing by a window, framed by the morning light, was Selene Virelyn.

Dressed in light pink, her figure was slim and graceful, her skin almost translucent.

The moment Riven walked in, he was momentarily stunned.

But Selene was pouting, arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Were Azhula and Azira pretty?" she asked sharply.

Riven chuckled, stepping closer.

He reached out and pinched her delicate nose lightly.

"Not even one ten-thousandth as beautiful as you," he said softly.

Selene huffed, refusing to meet his gaze.

Riven laughed again and pulled her gently into his arms.

"Let’s leave Sundawn for a while," he murmured into her hair. "Travel. See the mountains and rivers together."

Selene blinked up at him, her heart thudding.

"But... what about my mother..."

Her mind was racing, but then she flashed a sweet smile.

"Oh, right! Azhula is skilled at disguises..."

....

At the Green Plum Cottage.

The steward had settled Azhula and Azira into their rooms.

It was a quiet spot, with a beautiful plum tree outside the window.

"If you ladies need anything, just send word," the steward said politely.

He took another look at them: youthful, lovely, and graceful.

In his mind, they were obviously intended to serve the prince.

If they played their cards right, who knew? They might rise far beyond maidservants.

Azhula and Azira bowed respectfully.

"We dare not ask for anything, Steward," Azhula said sweetly. "Please assign us any duties."

The steward smiled approvingly, gave some advice, and took his leave.

As the door shut behind him, Azhula turned to Azira, her heart pounding.

She clutched her sleeve tightly.

--------------------

Silence weighed heavily in the room.

"Big sis... do you think we’ll ever go back to Young Master’s side?" Azira whispered, her voice trembling.

She stared at the unfamiliar room, tears falling like pearls, soaking her sleeves.

She and Azhula had grown up under the Murong family’s roof, living in carefree, happy days.

Now, suddenly cast away by Murong Fu, the future felt like a void: dark, endless, crushing.

Azhula, a year older and steadier, pulled Azira into her arms and whispered back.

"I don’t think the Crown Prince is a bad person. Don’t cry. Just serve him like we served Young Master. If he asks for you... Just go."

Her voice was calm, but deep inside, she felt just as broken.

Their loyalty to the Murong family ran deep. No matter how bitter their fate became, they couldn’t defy it. Even if it meant leaping into fire or facing a blade, they had to obey.

Azhula sighed quietly. "Everything’s already been decided. We can’t change it."

After a while, Azira wiped her tears and firmed her tone. "For Young Master’s dream... even if I have to die, I won’t regret it."

"Don’t talk nonsense about dying! Maybe Young Master doesn’t even care about us anymore," Azhula said, forcing a smile. "We just do our part."

They busied themselves laying out the bedding the servants had brought. As they worked, a knock sounded, and the steward’s voice followed.

"Azhula, the Crown Prince requests your presence."

Startled, Azhula gave a soft "Ah," and Azira instinctively moved to follow.

The steward stopped her politely. "Only Azhula."

"Huh?" Azira looked at Azhula, her face full of worry.

Azhula gave her a tiny shake of the head and smiled lightly. "It’s alright. You stay here and finish tidying up. I’ll go."

"Okay..." Azira mumbled, reluctant.

The steward led Azhula through winding corridors to the Manor. Her heart beat faster with every step.

"It’s still daytime... and the Crown Prince’s supposed to be a scholar... he wouldn’t... during the day..." she told herself, trying to stay calm.

But then another thought crept in.

"If he really wants me... then so be it."

They had been prepared for this from the start. Even if Riveron Ashvale had no intentions toward them, they were supposed to find a way to get close to him.

This was their mission.

Gripping her skirt tightly, Azhula took a deep breath and climbed the stairs leading to the top floor.

Before going, the Steward looked at her and advised.

"Azhula, the Crown Prince, is no longer a mortal. So be careful when you look into his face. He, of course, won’t harm you, so don’t worry too much".

The steward was one of the older servants.

All of them knew Riveron personally. He was a jolly boy since he was a child.

He treated maids and servants with appropriate respect and never crossed moral lines that should not be crossed.

So everyone loved him... except for the ’former Madam Lockwood’ and her bastard.

Azhula listened carefully and thanked him. Afterwards, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

An ethereal voice drifted, "Come in".

She slowly opened the doors.

She stepped into the room and scanned it quickly.

She saw a mass of mist and... "!!!!!"

And then!

Her entire body froze.

It was as if heaven had collapsed, the earth had caved in, and the entire world had spun out of control.

Was she hallucinating?

Or dreaming?

Azhula blinked furiously and rubbed her eyes.

Selene Virelyn was standing there, smiling at her, her voice like a soft breeze. "Azhula, don’t you recognize me?"

Azhula gaped. She could barely form words. "C- Cousin... Miss?"