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Chapter 109: ’The First Meeting’

Chapter 109: ’The First Meeting’

The grand entrance of Diamond Palace was alive with murmurs of anticipation.

The air was crisp and still, the golden gates standing wide open, as if to flaunt the palace’s splendor to the arriving dignitaries.

Heinz stood rigid at the top of the marble steps, his posture regal and commanding, his golden cloak fluttering faintly in the soft breeze. Beside him stood Lucius, his ever-efficient head butler—and cousin—his face a careful mask of indifference, though Heinz could feel his cousin’s sharp gaze taking in every detail.

"All the other princesses have already arrived," Heinz said, his tone clipped as his gaze scanned the path leading to the palace. "Why is Floramatria late?"

Lucius glanced at him, his gloved hands resting neatly behind his back. "Floramatria is... complicated," he replied, his words deliberate. "It’s a matriarchal kingdom, as I’ve mentioned before. Women make the decisions. The men... well, they serve different roles. It’s possible there were concerns about sending someone to represent them."

Heinz frowned, his lips curling slightly. "Concerns?"

"The King Consort is the one who made this decision," Lucius explained calmly. "It’s worth noting that in their kingdom, men don’t hold political authority, but they serve other... practical purposes. The prince they are sending is likely the most suitable option for their situation."

Heinz raised a brow, his irritation simmering just beneath the surface. "Suitable? You mean because he can—"

Lucius cut him off smoothly. "Because he can give birth, yes."

Heinz grimaced. The thought churned uneasily in his mind, and he let out a sharp breath. "I still can’t believe I’m accepting a male into my harem."

Lucius didn’t respond immediately, though his lips twitched faintly as if suppressing a comment.

Before Heinz could press further, movement on the horizon caught his attention. A carriage, ornate and glittering in Floramatria’s distinctive pastel hues, rolled into view along the cobblestone path. The sight of it drew a ripple of attention from the guards and attendants lining the entrance, their murmurs soft but charged with curiosity.

"There they are," Lucius murmured.

The carriage came to a halt before the palace steps. Its design was delicate, adorned with carvings of vines and flowers, the craftsmanship unmistakably Floramatrian. The door swung open, and a footman stepped forward, bowing deeply before announcing in a loud, clear voice:

"His Majesty, King Consort Asher Thornfield of Floramatria."

The figure that emerged drew every eye. King Consort Asher was slender, his movements graceful but undeniably masculine. His features were sharp, his gaze intelligent but weary, as if the weight of his kingdom rested heavily on his shoulders. He descended from the carriage with an air of practiced dignity, his robes flowing behind him in soft pastel shades of lavender and silver.

Heinz’s eyes narrowed. It had been years since he’d last seen the King Consort—on the battlefield, no less. The memory was vivid: Heinz astride his dragon, the skies dark with smoke as he demanded Floramatria’s loyalty. The terms had been simple—pledge allegiance or face annihilation. And Floramatria had chosen loyalty, offering a "princess" to cement their oath.

"Your Majesty," Asher said with a small, polite smile as he inclined his head toward Heinz. "It’s been some time since we last met."

"Yes," Heinz replied coolly. "Though the circumstances are far different now."

Asher chuckled softly, though there was tension beneath his otherwise calm demeanor. "Indeed."

Heinz’s gaze swept over the king consort with faint distaste. Despite the man’s elegant appearance, he still very much looked male—a detail that made Heinz’s unease simmer. He could accept many things, but this... this unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite place.

"And where is the prince?" Heinz asked bluntly, his tone betraying none of the irritation coiling within him.

Asher’s lips quirked into a knowing smile. He turned slightly toward the carriage, his voice carrying with surprising warmth. "Florian, come now."

The air seemed to still, a strange energy settling over the gathered onlookers. A soft rustling came from within the carriage, and then Florian stepped out.

The collective gasp was immediate.

Florian Thornfield was... otherworldly.

Long, cascading hair in the faintest shade of lavender framed his face, catching the light and giving it an almost ethereal glow. His bright green eyes sparkled like polished emeralds, framed by thick, dark lashes.

His features were soft, delicate, yet unnervingly captivating, a perfect blend of beauty and refinement that defied expectations. Dressed in flowing robes that clung gently to his frame, he moved with a grace that seemed almost unnatural.

Heinz’s breath hitched, his composure slipping for the briefest moment. He felt his chest tighten, an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation that he quickly suppressed. This is some sort of trick, he thought sharply. It has to be.

The rumors of Floramatria’s men came rushing back—how they supposedly possessed siren-like qualities, a natural allure that bewitched those who weren’t from their kingdom. It wasn’t magic, not truly, but it might as well have been.

Florian’s bright eyes met Heinz’s, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. Florian’s lips curved into a slow, dazzling smile, one that felt both innocent and impossibly alluring.

"I’m pleased to meet you, Your Majesty," Florian said, his voice soft but clear, carrying the faintest hint of musicality. "My name is Florian Thornfield, first prince of Floramatria."

Heinz forced himself to look away, his jaw tightening. He would not fall victim to whatever spell this was.

"Welcome, Prince Florian," he said coldly, keeping his tone formal and distant.

But as Florian’s smile lingered in his peripheral vision, Heinz couldn’t help but feel that this meeting was the start of something far more dangerous than he had anticipated.

"Hah... My thoughts were correct," Heinz muttered under his breath, his voice laced with bitterness. "He desperately clung to me, tried to seduce me, seduced Lucius and Lancelot, constantly made trouble and..."

His words trailed off as his hand rose to his temple, massaging it as if the motion could scrub away the unwelcome memory clawing its way to the surface.

’That memory...’

He clenched his jaw, but the scene unfolded vividly in his mind regardless.

"Y-Your Majesty, Heinz... I swear I only did it because I thought—"

"Silence!" Heinz’s voice had boomed with an authority that silenced even the wind that day. His piercing gaze bore down on the trembling figure before him. "Prince Florian Thornfield, for your insolence, I will see this as treason and a breach of our agreement. You will be sentenced to death."

The echoes of Florian’s desperate cries rang in his ears, ghostly and relentless.

’Stop,’ Heinz commanded himself, shaking his head sharply. ’No point dwelling on that over and over.’

He exhaled, long and slow, forcing his racing thoughts into submission. His amber eyes darkened as he glanced at the papers before him—the ones Florian had presented just hours ago.

"It’s different this time," Heinz murmured, his voice quieter, almost as if trying to convince himself. His gaze softened imperceptibly, lingering on the familiar handwriting that filled the pages. "He’s different this time."

His fingers brushed the edge of the parchment, trailing over the crisp folds as though the texture itself would confirm his thoughts.

’As long as this one doesn’t make the same mistake, everything will be fine. Besides...’

He leaned back in his chair, his expression hardening once more as he straightened the papers with a precise flick of his hands.

"...I have more pressing matters."

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