The Princess' Harem -
Chapter 57: Reyes
Chapter 57: Reyes
The next day, Viana was ready to face her royal duties as the Crown Princess of Elysia. She wore a sapphire-blue gown, its fabric flowing with understated elegance, and her golden hair was neatly braided, reflecting both grace and resolve.
With light steps, she walked toward the library, accompanied only by Joel. Arden had requested her presence to discuss the kingdom’s financial reports, a task that demanded her full attention.
As they reached the library’s heavy oak doors, Joel opted to stay outside, joking that the sight of so many books made his head spin.
Inside, the scent of parchment and aged wood enveloped her, a comforting contrast to the turmoil in her mind. The royal library of Elysia was a haven, its towering ceilings and shelves packed with ancient tomes creating a sanctuary of wisdom and history.
Viana moved through the rows of books, her boots soft on the polished floor, searching for Arden.
She found him at a sturdy oak table tucked into a quiet corner, where morning sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, casting hues of red and gold across the space.
Arden wore a simple white shirt and black trousers, his short brown hair neatly combed, making him appear younger and less formal than usual.
On the table lay stacks of books and scrolls, including Trade and Treaties of the Western Lands, the book they had retrieved during yesterday’s unforgettable incident.
At the sound of her footsteps, he turned, stood, and bowed respectfully. "Good morning, Your Highness."
Viana nodded and took a seat across from him. Arden slid a ledger toward her, his gaze sharp but attentive.
"Finance is the backbone of a kingdom, Your Highness," he said, his voice smooth and measured. "We will review the annual report based on palace records. These are not just numbers, but a reflection of our kingdom’s stability."
Viana nodded, though her mind struggled to focus. Count Lazarus’s gifts, Prince Arin’s looming threat, and Rayne’s teasing smile weighed heavily on her thoughts. She opened the ledger, her fingers tracing the columns of figures.
"You didn’t call me here just to teach me finance, Arden. What’s the real issue?"
Arden handed her a sheet of parchment with a carefully drawn graph of Elysia’s trade revenue over the past five years.
"Look at this trend," he said. "Revenue from northern trade, mainly iron ore and timber, has been declining for three years. Bandit attacks at the borders are a factor, but not the only one."
Viana frowned, reading the notes Arden had scrawled beneath the graph. "Mining contracts... costs have surged. Corruption?"
Arden nodded, his expression grave. "Partly. Some overseers have embezzled funds, but two seasons of harsh weather destroyed our main mines, forcing us to import iron ore from Valendale at high prices. Maintenance costs for the southern port have also risen due to storm damage."
Unease crept into Viana’s chest. "Revenue is falling, expenses are rising. How bad is it?"
Arden took a deep breath and flipped to another page in the ledger. "The treasury is stable for now, but reserves are depleting faster than anticipated. Taxes from the central provinces remain steady, and this year’s harvest is sufficient for food supplies. However, without intervention, we may need to raise taxes or cut military funding within two years."
The weight of his words pressed on her. Could Elysia be heading toward financial ruin? Would she be forced to accept Count Lazarus’s offer—his wealth in exchange for her hand, chaining her to his ambitions?
"Raising taxes will spark unrest," she said firmly, masking her fear. "And cutting military funding with Arin’s threat at our borders... that’s not an option."
Arden studied her, a mix of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Exactly. We must act now. I suggest auditing the mining contracts and renegotiating with Valendale to lower import tariffs. Expanding trade with the eastern kingdoms is another option—they’re interested in our textiles and spices."
Viana noted his suggestions, her fingers tapping lightly against the table. "An audit will take time, and negotiations with Valendale will be challenging."
Her thoughts drifted to Prince Rayne, his playful yet sincere demeanor. "But we have no choice."
Arden closed the ledger with a deliberate motion. "We have time, but not much. I’ll prepare a report for the council, but you must lead the discussion, Your Highness. They’ll listen to you."
The responsibility of ruling, once something she shied away from, now rested heavily on her shoulders. "Understood. Begin the audit. I want daily reports."
Arden gave a faint smile, his sharp features softening. "You process information quickly, Your Highness."
Their eyes met, and the memory of their moment by the bookshelves—the warmth of his touch—hung briefly between them, making them both uneasy.
Arden quickly looked away, his ears slightly red, reverting to his professional tone. "I’ll deliver the reports as soon as possible, Your Highness."
***
Viana left the library, unaware of Arden’s lingering unease. Her mind was consumed by financial troubles, Lazarus’s relentless pursuit, and the exiled Prince Arin, whose schemes threatened Elysia’s borders.
Yet, unexpectedly, Reyes’s face surfaced in her thoughts. Joel had mentioned he’d been training alone for days, and a quiet urge to see him took hold.
She decided to find him, heading toward the training grounds after assigning Joel another task. The evening sky glowed orange as she stepped outside the palace, her blue gown billowing in the breeze.
lThe training grounds were empty, Reyes nowhere in sight. Undeterred, she walked further, her mind heavy with the burdens she carried, toward the grassy field behind the barracks where soldiers often trained informally.
The rhythmic sound of wood striking wood reached her ears. Her heartbeat quickened, and she hurried forward.
There, in the fading light, stood Reyes, alone and shirtless, his sweat-covered skin glistening.
He was striking a tree with a wooden sword, surrounded by broken training weapons scattered across the grass. His hands were bleeding, small cuts on his palms dripping fresh red.
"Reyes!" Viana called, her voice sharper than intended. She rushed toward him, her gown catching on the grass, but she paid it no mind.
Reyes stopped at her approach, dropping his sword. His breath was heavy, and his usually calm eyes were dark, swirling with unspoken emotion.
She reached him, gently taking his hands, inspecting his torn skin with a mix of concern and frustration.
Without waiting for a response, she tore a strip from her gown, the sapphire fabric ripping with a sharp sound, and began wrapping his wounds with care.
Reyes tensed but didn’t pull away. "You’re hurting yourself," she said, her voice quiet but firm. "Why are you training like this until you bleed? Alone?"
He lowered his head, sweat dripping from his dark hair. "I needed to release something," he admitted, his voice low. "There’s too much in my mind."
She finished bandaging his hands but held on, their fingers entwined. They stood close, his warmth radiating against her skin, the scent of sweat and wood filling the air. The world seemed to shrink, the grassy field and orange sky fading until it was just them.
"You don’t have to be alone," she whispered, her voice trembling with sincerity. "You’re my guard, but to me, you’re more than that. You’re a friend, a companion... and more."
Her words struck him, his breath catching. He looked up, vulnerability and warmth flickering in his eyes.
"Viana," he said, using her name for the first time, his voice thick with emotion. "I want to protect you. But sometimes, I wonder if I’m strong enough."
Her chest tightened, the rawness of his confession unlike anything she’d felt with the others.
"You are more than enough," she said firmly, her grip on his hands tightening. "Don’t hurt yourself because of me."
Time seemed to pause, the wind carrying the scent of grass and dusk. Reyes’s gaze locked onto hers, intense and unguarded, and she felt an urge to close the distance between them.
But her duties, Arin’s threat, and Lazarus’s looming presence anchored her, a reminder of the world beyond this moment.
"Next time, train with me," she said softly, a faint smile breaking through. "I can handle a sword."
Reyes gave a small smile, his nod carrying a quiet promise. "As you command, Your Highness."
They walked back to the palace, their shoulders nearly touching, the silence between them comfortable yet charged. Viana’s heart was a tangle of emotions she couldn’t unravel.
Reyes, with his hands wrapped in her torn gown, was a beacon amidst the palace’s intrigues—a reminder that there were people she cared for deeply.
As they approached the palace, the torches along the walls flickered to life, casting golden light across the stone paths.
Viana glanced at Reyes, his profile sharp in the glow, and noticed the tension in his jaw had eased.
She wondered what burdens he carried, what drove him to push himself to such extremes. Her own burdens—Elysia’s finances, Lazarus’s schemes, Arin’s rebellion—felt lighter in his presence, if only for a moment.
They passed a group of servants hurrying with linens and trays, preparing for the evening’s council meeting. Viana’s steps slowed, her mind shifting to the tasks ahead.
She’d need to review Arden’s audit plans and prepare for the council, where she’d face nobles like Lazarus, whose every word dripped with calculation. Yet, Reyes’s quiet strength beside her bolstered her resolve.
At the palace entrance, Reyes paused, turning to her. "I’ll be at my post tonight, Your Highness," he said, his voice steady but soft. "If you need me."
She met his gaze, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," she replied, her voice equally soft. "Thank you, Reyes."
He bowed, a gesture both formal and intimate, and stepped back to join the guards. Viana entered the palace, her gown slightly tattered but her spirit fortified.
In her room, she lit a candle, its flame dancing in the evening breeze. The sapphire necklace from Lazarus sat on her vanity, its gems cold and uninviting.
She ignored it, instead opening a small journal where she jotted notes from Arden’s report.
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