Chapter 423 Meeting [1]

The next day arrived in a quiet hush.

It was time for his meeting with the Duke’s daughter.

Michael called Ace and Lia over.

"Go to the outer city ride center," he instructed with an unhurried tone. "Find something respectable enough. And make sure it’s ready by the time I’m dressed."

The two young men bowed in quick, earnest agreement and hurried out.

Michael returned to his room and lingered for a moment in front of the mirror. He exhaled, shoulders settling.

Aside from the tea with Arianne, there was another reason he’d planned this visit. He intended to see the Duke himself. A few days ago, when he had been granted his territory, the Duke had told him to inform him when he was ready to travel there in earnest.

With his rank advancement looming, Michael saw no more reason to wait.

The further from the capital he was, the more freedom he’d have to focus on what truly mattered.

And his territory was, by every definition, his own domain. A place where no one would question him or would be in without his consent.

That alone made it worth the effort.

As the last of his preparations fell into place, Michael picked up a small case—a gift for Adriane, a pack of chocolates he got from his world—and stepped out of his residence.

The carriage Ace and Lia had arranged was already waiting in front of his house.

It had an eleganook but no crest.

It was good enough to hold a rich face so Michael was satisfied.

The ride through the capital was smooth, the carriage gliding over the polished cobbles of the inner city with only the occasional lurch as it crossed a drainage grate.

Michael sat back, one hand resting idly atop the little box on his lap, gaze turned to the tall stone façades sliding past the window.

Soon enough, the orderly grid of villas gave way to the broad, gated estates of the noble quarter. High walls and wrought iron fences lined the roads, each property bearing its own subtle display of wealth and lineage: engraved plaques, carefully pruned trees, guards in crisp livery standing at their posts.

It wasn’t long before the Evermoon estate came into view—a sprawling manor of pale stone and banners embroidered with the Duke’s sigil stirring gently in the early afternoon breeze.

The carriage slowed to a dignified halt in front of the main gate.

Two guards in Evermoon colors stepped forward, crossing their halberds to bar the approach.

Michael opened the door and descended to the cobbles without hurry, adjusting the fall of his robe across his shoulders.

One of the guards inclined his head with measured politeness but did not lower his weapon.

"Your business, sir?"

Michael met the man’s eyes calmly.

"I am here by appointment," he said. "A meeting with Lady Arianne."

For a beat, the guard’s expression remained impassive. Then, as though only just recognizing something, he straightened and looked more closely at Michael’s face.

"Forgive me," he said quickly, his tone shifting to seriousness and a hint of great respect. "Would you be Sir Mic Nor?"

"I am."

At once, both guards stepped back and lifted their halberds clear.

"Of course, Sir Mic. You are expected."

The nearer guard gestured to another uniformed attendant who had appeared behind the gates.

"If you would permit, my lord—he will escort you to the reception hall."

The guard cleared his throat, glancing past Michael to the elegant carriage waiting at the curb.

"If you prefer, Sir Mic, you may enter the carriage again so you don’t have to walk the distance on foot. The drive circles directly to the hall."

Michael regarded the man for a moment, the offer clearly well-meant. But he only lifted a hand in a small, polite refusal.

"That’s quite all right. I’d rather stretch my legs," he said evenly.

The guard bowed slightly, seeming relieved not to have erred by insisting.

"As you wish, my lord."

He gave a quick signal to the coachman, who promptly dipped his head in acknowledgment and began guiding the carriage away, leaving Michael alone at the threshold.

The attendant in Evermoon livery stepped forward at once, offering a shallow bow.

"If you’ll follow me, Sir Mic."

Michael nodded once, then fell into step behind him.

The walk through the estate grounds was quiet but far from dull. Neatly raked gravel paths wound between sculpted hedges. A pair of peacocks picked their way along the grass at the base of a marble staircase, their tails sweeping low behind them.

Michael couldn’t help but wonder if the Evermoon family was a lover of creatures or if this was caused by the influence of Arianne.

Either way, the estate was beautiful.

The attendant led Michael through a hushed vestibule and down a hallway lined with tall arched windows. At last, he stopped before a set of double doors.

"My lady is waiting inside," he said quietly.

Michael inclined his head in thanks.

"I won’t keep her waiting."

With that, he stepped forward and pushed the doors open.

Inside, the reception hall was bright with the soft gold of afternoon sun. Arianne Evermoon stood near the tall windows, her hands folded neatly before her. She wore a simple but elegant pale blue gown, her dark hair coiled in a low twist at her nape.

She looked up at the sound of his entrance. A small, genuine smile touched her lips.

"Sir Mic."

Michael stopped a few paces from her and inclined his head with polite gravity, though the corner of his mouth curved faintly.

"Lady Arianne."

For a heartbeat, the room was very still—sunlight pooling between them, dust motes drifting in the warm air.

Then, at last, Arianne gestured gracefully to a low table laid with a silver service and a pair of chairs drawn up opposite each other.

"Thank you for coming. Shall we sit?"

Michael exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Let’s."