Lord Theodore's Favorite Ritual
Chapter 261: Second Lifetime, Freya. (7)

Chapter 261: Second Lifetime, Freya. (7)

Seconoria.

***********

The grand dining hall of Seconoria Castle was a vision of elegance, with its high vaulted ceilings, sparkling chandeliers, and long, polished tables adorned with the finest silverware and crystal goblets. Yet, despite the grandeur surrounding her, Princess Freya felt a profound sense of loneliness and misery as she sat across from her betrothed, Prince Holland of Drakovia.

The prince, a tall and handsome figure, was the third son of King Reinhardt. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his attire was immaculate, but his demeanor was far from what Freya had expected. He was silent, too silent, and his eyes, though strikingly blue, held a distant, almost haunted look. It was as if he were trapped in his own world of sorrow, barely acknowledging her presence.

Freya forced a polite smile, trying to mask her discomfort. The silence between them was oppressive, and she longed to escape this formal charade. Her mind wandered to the days spent training in the open fields, the freedom she felt with a sword in her hand and the wind in her hair. But now, she was confined to the role of a demure princess, dressed in finery and expected to play her part in a political alliance that felt increasingly suffocating.

She looked around discreetly but Theodore was nowhere around and it made her chest squeeze somehow.

Determined to make the best of the situation, Freya attempted to initiate conversation. "Prince Holland," she began softly, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil, "how was your journey to Seconoria? I hope it was not too arduous."

Holland’s eyes flicked to hers, but there was no warmth in his gaze. He seemed to study her, as if trying to see through her façade. "The journey was fine," he replied, his voice low and devoid of emotion. "Thank you for asking."

Freya bit her lip, sensing the futility of her efforts but pressing on nonetheless. "I have heard that Drakovia is known for its beautiful landscapes. Do you enjoy riding or hunting in the forests there?"

Holland’s lips twitched into a semblance of a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. "Yes, I do. The forests are quite... serene," he said, his tone distant.

The conversation dwindled into silence once more, the space between them filled with unspoken words and heavy hearts. Freya felt a pang of empathy for the prince; he seemed as trapped in this arrangement as she was, his own misery mirroring her own. Yet, despite this shared sorrow, they were strangers, each bearing the weight of their kingdoms’ expectations.

Freya glanced around the hall, wishing she could simply stand up and walk away. She longed for the freedom to choose her own path, to escape the confines of duty and tradition. But she knew that running away was not an option. Her father’s command was absolute, and she had to endure this for the sake of Eldoria.

As the evening wore on, the silence between them grew more oppressive. Freya made a few more attempts at small talk, each met with brief, detached responses. It was as if Prince Holland was merely going through the motions, his heart clearly not in it. She wondered what had caused the heartbreak that clouded his eyes, but she knew better than to pry.

Finally, the dinner drew to a close. Prince Holland rose from his seat and bowed politely. "Thank you for the meal, Princess Freya," he said, his voice formal and distant. "I shall take my leave now."

Freya nodded, her own farewell equally polite and detached. "Thank you for coming, Prince Holland. Have a pleasant evening."

As Holland turned and walked away, Freya let out a small sigh of relief. The weight of the evening had been almost unbearable, and she felt a deep sense of exhaustion. Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft, familiar voice of her maid and friend, Hannah.

"Princess, come with me," Hannah said gently, taking Freya’s hand and guiding her away from the dining hall. "You don’t need to stay here any longer."

Freya allowed herself to be led away, her mind still reeling from the encounter. "Hannah, I feel so... trapped," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Hannah squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I know, my lady. But you are strong, and you will get through this. Come, let’s get you back to your chambers."

"Freya," she corrected her friend grumpily making Hannah shake her head.

As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, Freya’s thoughts returned to Prince Holland. She could not shake the image of his sorrowful eyes and the sense of shared loneliness between them. Though they were bound by duty and expectation, their hearts remained distant, yearning for a freedom neither could fully grasp.

When they reached her chambers, Hannah helped Freya out of her elaborate gown and into a more comfortable robe. As she sat by the window, looking out at the darkening sky, Freya felt a deep ache within her chest. The night was silent, save for the faint rustling of leaves in the wind, and she longed for the strength to... go out and enjoy the wind, so she did.

She took an after dress cloak and stepped outside tentatively, she moved into the garden and sat on a bench. She took deep breaths, the weather chilling but welcoming.

"How was your day today?" a voice cut through the cold. Theodore.

"You were absent" she replied, her head turning to meet his figure standing behind her.

His gaze fell to her neck before he turned to stand in front of her, "I could not watch" he said simply and so she wondered.

She didn’t want to indulge him but she asked anyway, "What─what could you not watch?"

"My princess and ... Holland" he replied and as though he hated to see her craning her neck to meet his gaze he took the chair opposite heres.

"Holland? Are you an acquaintance?" Freya asked when she noticed he called the prince by first name.

"Well I know him but he might find it hard to remember me" Theodore retorted mysteriosly.

Freya rolled herself, getting comfortable. "That is because he is a prince, Theodore"

He felt a soft flutter in his heart at the concept of her calling him by his name, "How was he?"

"Should I be concerned that I find your interest oddly satisfying?" she asked, they was a smile in her voice but it was not apparent on her face.

Theodore met her gaze, pleased that she loved his attention and promising himself to keep her attention too, she couldn’t hold his gaze for long, it was something Alice crowned at and it made him smile, "Holland has lost something profound"

She narrowed her eyes, "You call him by his first name?"

"No, but you do, why can I not?" she pinned him with a playful glare.

"He had a love interest he never could have" Theodore let out looking at the sky.

Frey found it hard to believe, "But he is a prince, he could have whoever he desires"

"She is dead, so he is in profound agony" there was a sadness in Theodore’s that she caught.

"You sound passionate, as though you know what you are talking about" her pointing out this fact made him sigh, "I do know, princess, I know" his eyes burned with a fire she couldn’t hold yet so she looked to the sky. "Why were you still around?"

"I had to see you" he replied almost knocking the air out of her lungs but instead she reddened.

"How did you know I would come outside?"

’Because you are my Gooseberry’ he mused but dared not say it as he held her gaze. "I should leave" he mumbled when the sky roared, indicating an impending rain. He stood up after her.

"Have a good night, Theodore"

"Have a good night, Freya"

*

* *

*

Evening

Seconoria.

************

The corridors of Seconoria Castle were hushed and dim as Theodore escorted Freya back to her chambers. The afternoon’s court meeting had been tense, filled with heated debates and stern faces, and the weight of the discussions seemed to hang heavily in the air. The king and his council had been relentless, their voices echoing with authority and stubbornness, leaving little room for Freya’s opinions and insights.

As they walked, Freya’s frustration was palpable. She mumbled complaints under her breath, her words a mixture of indignation and exasperation. "Those men...," she began, her voice barely above a whisper but brimming with annoyance. "They think they know everything, sitting there in their grand robes, deciding the fate of the kingdom as if my thoughts are just trifles."

Theodore remained silent, his expression stoic yet attentive. He knew better than to interrupt her when she was in such a mood. His role was to listen, to offer silent support, and to ensure her safe passage back to her quarters. He walked a step behind her, his eyes alert for any signs of danger or intrusion, but his focus was entirely on her. His lifetime love.

Freya continued, her voice growing more animated with each step. "I have spent years preparing, training, learning everything about this kingdom, and yet they dismiss me as if I am a mere child. Their opinions are outdated, their strategies archaic. And my father...," she trailed off, her tone softening with a hint of sadness. "He just sits there, letting them talk over me, as if he does not believe I can handle it."

Theodore’s heart ached for her. He had witnessed firsthand her dedication, her relentless pursuit of knowledge and strength. He knew how much she longed to be taken seriously, to prove her worth as a leader. But the council, steeped in tradition and bound by their perceptions of her role, seemed blind to her potential.

Her father was at work again.

As they rounded a corner, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the stone walls, Freya’s grumbling took on a lighter tone. "And to think, they have the audacity to lecture me about diplomacy and strategy. If they had any sense, they’d realize that listening to me might actually benefit the kingdom."

Theodore couldn’t help but smile at her fiery spirit. He admired her resilience, her unwavering determination to stand her ground even in the face of such adversity. "Princess," he said softly, breaking his silence, "your strength and wisdom will shine through. They cannot ignore you forever."

Freya glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Thank you, Theodore. Your faith in me means more than you know." She paused for a moment, her eyes meeting his, and in that brief exchange, a silent understanding passed between them.

They continued walking, the sound of their footsteps echoing softly through the halls. Freya’s mood seemed to lighten as they approached her chambers, the tension of the court meeting slowly dissipating. "You know," she mused, her tone contemplative, "I think I will need a good dinner to forgive them for today. Something hearty and indulgent."

Theodore chuckled, his deep voice resonating warmly. "I shall ensure that the kitchen prepares something special for you, Princess. Perhaps a feast fit for a warrior queen?"

Freya laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "Yes, a feast for a warrior queen. That sounds perfect." She reached her chamber door, and with a graceful turn, she faced him. "Thank you, Theodore. For everything."

He bowed slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "It is my honor to serve you, Princess Freya."

As she entered her chambers, the heavy wooden door closing behind her, Theodore stood for a moment, the weight of the day’s events settling on his shoulders. He knew the road ahead would be challenging, filled with obstacles and resistance, not only because he was a knight here, he had been a prince the last time and he couldn’t protect them. But he also knew that with Freya’s strength and his unwavering support, they would face whatever came their way.

With a final glance at her door, he turned and resumed his post, ready to guard her against any threat, knowing that the true battle was not just against external foes, but against the very traditions and expectations that sought to confine her. And in that quiet moment, he vowed to stand by her side, no matter what.

No matter what, he would guard her, and guide her away from heavens gate, he couldn’t let the failing and cruel fate get the win.

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