The Princesses Gather at Last
“Oh my gosh, I made it just in time! Thank goodness!”
“Eh? Eh….”
Arkin gave a flustered reply as he carefully scanned the figure approaching him. The princess drew nearer, her eyes sparkling with a bright, mischievous glint. She flashed another smile, and her chestnut hair—tinged with reddish hues—fell neatly into two braids. Delicate freckles dotted her flushed cheeks. She was utterly unfamiliar to him. A complete stranger. A true first encounter.
“I was worried about you. Have you changed into your proper attire? Honestly, I was about to go help you myself.”
What? Arkin’s eyes widened in shock. Why would she offer to help me change clothes?
Why does everyone keep doing this to me? First the princess of Kepet, and now everyone else…
I didn’t know what to say as I stood there frozen. The princess simply brushed past Arkin and turned to the one behind him—Elio—grabbing his arm with genuine affection.
“Elio… you look so good here.”
It wasn’t me. Arkin felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. He bit his lip quietly. His face burned with mortification.
“Mmm, Petra.”
Elio’s voice was soft, almost shy, yet he smiled bashfully, as if the touch of her hand was strangely familiar.
“Arkin helped. He even tied my shoelaces.”
“I somehow knew Elio’s skills couldn’t possibly manage something like that.”
Petra chuckled, giving Elio’s arm a light swat before turning to Arkin.
“Right. You’re the prince of Solinar, aren’t you, Arkin?”
“Mmm.”
“I saw you swear the oath at the front. It was magnificent.”
The princess extended her hand with bold confidence. Arkin, caught off guard, instinctively clasped it. The firm grip radiated raw strength and determination.
“I’m Petra, princess of Stonegard, from the Rock Kingdom.”
She grinned, introducing herself with ease.
“Since we’re all equal participants, I’ll skip the titles. That’s fine, right?”
Petra continued without hesitation.
“To be honest, I’ve heard a lot about you. I studied and investigated thoroughly before coming here.”
“…About me?”
“Of course. I’m supposed to become the next ruler. I’ve been eagerly waiting for Arkin Seilir, hoping our friendship with Solinar and Stonegard would endure.”
“Ah.”
Arkin could easily picture her regal figure donning the crown after such thorough preparation. The earnest research had, thankfully, uncovered nothing to threaten Solinar’s internal stability.
“Same here. Let’s stay well and fight together.”
Arkin offered a faint smile. The topic of succession was about to arise, so he searched for a way to steer the conversation. Fortunately, Petra cut in first.
“Hey, have you heard about my relationship with Elio?”
“Not yet…”
“Oh no, Elio! You didn’t tell Arkin about me?”
“Ah, that’s…”
They had only just met. Why were so many people so open? Arkin felt flustered but stayed silent. They didn’t seem like the right kind of friends to intrude on. He kept his lips firmly shut.
“It’s just… Petra, I’m a bit scatterbrained…”
Elio’s pale, slender face flushed a deep crimson. He lowered his head, long white lashes trembling faintly.
“How could you say that?”
Petra’s eyebrows shot up in fury. She looked as if Elio had committed an unforgivable crime.
“I’m so disappointed. Why can’t you proudly call me your fiancée in front of everyone?”
She grabbed Elio’s shoulder and shook him vigorously. The prince of Baylon—already slender—wobbled like a reed in the Rock Princess’s iron grip. Even he, fragile as fog itself, might collapse. Arkin rushed in to steady him.
“No, Petra. I just didn’t hear because I was distracted.”
In truth, he hadn’t heard anything. But he had to do something to rescue Elio.
“I-is that true? The fiancé?”
“Really?”
Petra’s storm of anger suddenly died down. Color returned to her cheeks.
“Just like I thought. I kept worrying that Elio would never mention me here!”
Arkin breathed a sigh of relief. Petra smiled brightly, satisfied, and announced they’d meet again later. She waved lightly and returned to her table with the other princesses. Elio and Arkin settled at their own table.
“Thanks, Arkin. Petra can be so intense. She really likes me….”
Elio whispered, still embarrassed.
“Seems that way.”
Arkin replied with a wry smile.
The table of princesses looked lively. Princess Serena of Lakelium sat with a haughty expression, lips tightly sealed, yet Petra and the two others chatted and laughed easily.
But why only four?
Arkin’s sharp eyes narrowed as he watched.
The princess facing Petra was Amalfi, princess of Floria, her pink hair adorned with flowers. Beside her was…
A calm, mysterious woman whose large purple eyes drew attention. Black-haired, wrapped in purple robes, clutching a turtle shell. Her eyes—pitch black—stared at Petra without blinking. Her slender fingers kept stroking the shell.
“The princess of Astraria, right?”
Elio noticed Arkin’s gaze and offered a quiet comment.
“I envy their royal lineage the most. They can foresee the future. People who can read the stars in the sky.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. I can’t even see two steps ahead.”
“Elio, what about the princess of Kepet?”
Arkin subtly glanced at the table where Draconis sat. Sure enough, Nefetia was missing there too. Only Draconis and Kaichen remained, sitting in sullen silence and staring in opposite directions.
“Now that I think about it, the prince of Ivica is nowhere to be seen.”
Arkin’s eyebrows twitched faintly at Elio’s remark. Four princesses and four princes. Where were they all?
Squeak. Squeak.
The sound of a creaking wooden door drew Arkin’s attention to the shadowed corridor. The narrow passage where servants usually passed was now filled with slow, heavy footsteps.
“Fellow trainees, I apologize for being late.”
A deep, gravelly voice echoed through the darkness, causing absolute silence. The moment the massive man stepped into the light, fear replaced the quiet.
“Are we all here?”
The priest’s stern face furrowed as he surveyed the room. His purple robes marked him as a chief priest, but his overall demeanor still made Arkin wonder if he might be mistaken for a band leader.
Curly ash-grey hair, a sharp beak-like nose, a thick beard that hid his lower face, a long scar beside one eye… and above all, eyes that burned with intensity, giving him a frighteningly fierce appearance.
“My name is Seneca. I am your guide priest.”
The man introduced himself in a rough, authoritative tone. No trace of temple dignity remained—only blunt, rude arrogance.
“As I said, you are not princes or princesses from any kingdom. You are simply my trainees. Understand?”
No one spoke. Seneca snorted, scrunched his brows, and pulled out a crumpled scroll from his sleeve.
“Good. Let’s check if everyone is present.”
His robes were so heavy that the sleeves dragged at his thick arms. One strong tug and the seams might burst.
“Hmph. Solinar’s Arkin. Lakelium’s Serena…”
He continued methodically. Stonegard’s Petra. Baylon’s Elio. Igninof’s Draconis. Voltrion’s Kaichen. Floria’s Amalfi. Astraria’s Stella. And the missing ones…
As Seneca checked each face, his expression darkened further.
“Kepet’s Nefetia and Ivica’s…”
Zafiri.