The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne
Chapter 97: The Birthday Party (1)

Chapter 97: The Birthday Party (1)

The next day...

The bright sun slowly set, giving way to a calm and quiet night.

But that silence did not extend to the Great Velmora Empire—especially not to its majestic and beautiful capital, Solvaria.

The streets were illuminated by yellow and white lanterns, bustling with crowds of people both in the city center and on the outskirts.

Today marked the Emperor’s birthday. According to palace tradition, both today and tomorrow were declared public holidays for everyone in the empire.

That was why people from all walks of life had gathered, filling the capital with joy and celebration, offering prayers and well-wishes for the Emperor’s long life.

The festivities weren’t limited to the streets—they echoed within the Imperial Palace as well.

Adorned with decorations that had been prepared over the past four days, the palace now looked more magnificent and radiant than ever.

A golden flag bearing the symbols of a lion and a dragon facing one another fluttered high above the palace courtyard.

It was the pride of the Great Velmora Empire, honored by both nobles and commoners alike.

The courtyard walls were draped in white and gold fabric, decorated with golden flame emblems—symbols of Velmora’s courage and grandeur, sending a message to both allies and enemies among the invited guests.

The palace gates stood wide open as carriages—ranging from modest to extravagantly ornate—passed through one by one.

Soldiers clad in white armor stood in perfect formation, guarding the entrance and welcoming the arriving guests.

Among the most eye-catching was a white carriage, adorned with gold engravings on every side.

Two dashing, muscular black horses pulled the carriage, radiating strength and majesty.

On its right side fluttered a small flag bearing a golden bird with piercing eyes—the crest of House Caltheron, one of the most influential families in the Empire.

The carriage rolled forward and came to a stop in front of a grand entrance hall.

There, five guards in white armor stood with swords sheathed at their waists.

Upon seeing the carriage arrive, they immediately stepped forward and bowed their heads in respect.

Moments later, the carriage door opened, and Orlan stepped out—a tall, handsome figure clad in a white robe that radiated calm confidence and quiet sharpness.

As he placed his feet firmly on the ground, he extended his hand to the side. A beautiful woman followed, stepping down gracefully.

Her features were delicate and flawless, with porcelain-white skin that exuded charm.

Her bluish-white hair was arranged in a braided updo, accentuating her gentle features and adding a touch of mature elegance.

She wore a flowing blue gown that cascaded to the floor, as though it had been woven with care and precision.

The delicate lace on the sleeves and neckline added refinement, while the thin gold embroidery along the hem quietly declared her noble status.

Had Nolan been there, he would have been stunned—for the woman was none other than Syra Balfron, Orlan’s wife, the very woman he had once saved from a coma.

"Father! Mother! Wait for me!"

A sweet, cheerful voice rang out from inside the carriage, followed by a young girl who came running down the steps.

The little girl looked absolutely adorable, with chubby cheeks and a bright, cheerful face full of smiles. Her hair, almost identical to Syra’s, was styled into two neat ponytails, making her look even more endearing.

She wore a light green dress adorned with lace at the collar, sleeves, and hem. Her small, delicate figure could melt the heart of anyone who saw her.

Orlan chuckled softly and gently took his daughter’s tiny hand.

"Don’t rush like that, Alicia. If you fall, it’ll hurt, you know?" he said with a gentle, affectionate tone.

Alicia smiled sheepishly and replied in a small voice, "I’m sorry, Father. I promise I won’t do it again."

Orlan felt relieved seeing his daughter’s obedience. Although Alicia was usually well-behaved, she did have moments of stubbornness and defiance.

However, ever since receiving a moral lesson from Nolan a few days ago, she had become more obedient and thoughtful.

As her father, Orlan was naturally overjoyed. After all, every piece of advice and instruction he gave was for his beloved daughter’s well-being.

That was why he felt truly grateful to Nolan.

At his side, Syra let out a soft laugh and gently patted her daughter’s head.

Even though she hadn’t been around for a while, her daughter had grown into a smart and considerate little girl—something that filled her heart with gratitude.

"Welcome, Marquis Orlan, Marchioness Syra, and Young Lady Alicia," the five guards greeted respectfully.

Orlan responded with a warm smile and a polite nod.

Together, the three of them stepped forward, walking past the elegant red carpet that stretched along the floor, leading toward the grand hall where the party would be held.

However, they had barely taken ten steps when a loud laugh suddenly rang out from the side.

"Hahaha! Marquis Caltheron, it’s good to see you in fine health, as always."

Orlan, Syra, and Alicia instinctively turned toward the voice, their expressions tinged with surprise.

Standing there was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern expression.

Even beneath the brown robe he wore, the outlines of his powerful physique were faintly visible.

Beside him stood a graceful, mature woman dressed in a flowing black gown.

Her long brown hair cascaded freely, adorned with a star-shaped barrette on the right side—an elegant touch that enhanced her charm.

While her beauty couldn’t quite compare to Syra’s, she still possessed a captivating presence.

Orlan paused briefly before stepping forward with a polite smile.

"It’s good to see you well too, Marquis Valmire," he said, extending a hand.

The man was Aston Valmire—head of House Valmire, one of the three marquis families that governed the eastern region of the Empire.

He was also the same man who had sat beside Orlan during the succession announcement just over a week earlier.

Aston clasped Orlan’s hand firmly, but his eyes widened as he caught sight of Syra standing nearby.

A wide smile slowly spread across his face, and he looked at Orlan with genuine warmth.

"So the rumors were true—your wife has recovered. I’d heard about it, but seeing her in person still catches me off guard," he said with a long, sincere sigh.

Aston and Orlan had known each other for years and were well acquainted with each other’s families.

He knew just how hard Orlan had worked to find a cure for Syra—and now, all that effort had finally paid off.

As a friend, he couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy for Orlan’s good fortune.

"I didn’t expect things to turn out like this either," Orlan replied with a chuckle. He glanced at his wife, who was now deep in conversation with Aston’s wife, and added, "But it all became possible thanks to Prince Nolan. I’m truly grateful to him."

Aston’s eyebrows rose slightly. Then, without warning, he slung an arm around Orlan’s shoulders and led him a few steps away.

Orlan blinked in surprise but didn’t resist, curious about what Aston was up to.

Once they were far enough from listening ears, Aston lowered his arm and asked in a serious tone, "Marquis Caltheron, is that really true? Was it Prince Nolan who healed Syra and Alicia?"

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