Melroy smirked faintly before continuing.
"Other than that, youâre free to spend your time however you wish... though I do hope you use some of it to get to know my daughter as well."
He suddenly turned his head to the side and shouted...
"Isla! Come here!"
From somewhere within the gathered nobles, Elion heard the unmistakable sound of a woman muttering a curse under her breath. She stepped forward, her heels clinking softly on the smooth floor before she stepped onto the carpet.
For a moment, Elion forgot where he was.
She was simply... Beautiful. Not in any exaggerated, dressed-up way, but in a natural, effortless kind of grandeur.
Of course, she also had blonde hair like her kin, which flowed freely over her shoulders and down her back, catching the light. And her blue dress was loose and elegant. It moved gently on her lithe frame with each step that she took, complementing her features perfectly.
As she approached the throne and finally turned to face forward, Elion got a clearer look at her face. Her features were soft and sharp, with ocean-blue eyes, and pale, delicate skin.
And yet, there was something different about her than what you usually saw in the majority of women out there. She had no makeup at all, and somehow, that made her even more striking.
Her face did not seem to be powdered, her brows were not outlined, and her luscious lips were just a plain pink instead of that brushed red or pink that you saw on most womenâs lips.
Melroy gestured toward her proudly.
"This is my eldest daughter, Isla."
She stiffened slightly at the mention of her name.
"Sheâs somewhat of an outcast," he continued casually, "and a rebellious one too. Because of that, sheâs had a bit of trouble finding a man for herself, despite being well into her twenties already."
"F-Father!"
Isla flushed deeply, clearly mortified.
"She doesnât have many friends either," Melroy went on, ignoring her pleas completely. "Sheâs dedicated her whole life to crafting, so she spends all her time in her workshop instead of socialising."
Elion raised a brow, his gaze drifted lower, and he noted the condition of her hands, which looked rough and bruised in many places, and he could bet there were callouses on her palms, too, if she let him have a look.
It was a stark contrast to her otherwise delicate appearance.
Melroy noticed that Elion had not said anything up to now, even though he had remained silent for a good ten seconds, waiting for any kind of response from him.
"I wonât force you two into anything," Melroy added, waving a hand lazily. "And I know my court would prefer I hand her off to one of their sons..."
A few nobles straightened subtly at the direct accusation that was meant for the majority of them.
"...but I donât think that would work for her."
Elion tilted his head slightly, trying to understand what he meant by that.
"And what makes you think I would?" he asked casually.
Melroy shrugged, "I donât know."
A grin spread across his face.
"Call it a gut feeling."
He pointed between them.
"I think you two would get along."
Elion went quiet as his gaze lingered on the pair of father and daughter. He felt a bit conflicted by this.
On one hand, he wasnât someone who would turn down a beautiful woman. But this entire trial felt like a blur already.
He was yet to make heads or tails of what this trial was supposed to be.
He didnât know what it would mean for him if he opened himself up too much to these people.
Would he be able to take it if he became extremely close to this Isla, only to end up never seeing her again once the trial inevitably ended? And sure enough, it would probably end when whatever operation they were going to carry out ended, since that would no doubt count as a completion of their main objective.
The thought sat heavily in his chest.
âI donât like this...â
He could see Isla shifting slightly, growing more uncomfortable by the second.
After all, most men would have accepted instantly if such a beautiful, noble lady were offered to them, no matter their shortcomings.
But here Elion was hesitating to the point of putting on a pondering expression. To anyone watching, he seemed to be having obvious doubts.
That alone was enough to bruise anyoneâs pride, since that would obviously be a direct slap to any ladyâs reputation
"I can see youâre a thoughtful young man," Melroy said, his tone softening just a fraction. "Most wouldâve accepted immediately. Your hesitation tells me everything I need to know about what kind of man you are."
Elion let out a small breath.
"Iâm just surprised," he admitted. "I mean... who expects the king to offer his daughterâs hand to someone he just met? In front of the entire court, no less."
"Heâs right, Your Majesty!"
A chorus of aggrieved voices rose from the nobles. Melroy simply raised his hand to indicate that their input was not required, and an instant silence fell over the whole court.
"Shut your mouths, you greedy pigs!"
His voice cracked like thunder.
"Do you take me for a fool?"
The air grew heavy.
"All you want is to use my daughter to climb this damned courtâs hierarchy."
His gaze swept across them.
"I will have none of it."
Not a single voice dared reply.
Elion blinked slightly.
âHow is he this overbearing...?â
This wasnât what he had imagined a noble court to be like. He had always thought nobles held just as much influence and a say when it came to matters of the court as the king did.
At least, thatâs what ELion had always believed, well, more like what he had been led to believe; apparently, that was not the case in reality.
âI guess the strongest fist rules...â
Elion thought silently.
And right now, that fist sat on the throne. Melroy looked back toward Elion, "The final decision will lie in both of your hands," he said, glancing briefly toward Isla. "Elion... Isla."
He paused briefly while tapping the arm of his throne, keeping everyone waiting.
"With that being said, I do hope you two get to know each other first in the short time that you are here."
He began to suspect that perhaps this was the actual reason he had been summoned here. Elion nodded lightly.
At the same time, Isla walked off just in time to dodge the hand that had been about to land on her back.
It seemed she had anticipated the âencouragingâ slap from her father before it even came. The smooth evasion caught Elion off guard.
A short laugh escaped him as he watched her go smoothly. She slipped back into the crowd, disappearing almost instantly.
Elion watched her for a moment before looking back toward the boisterous king.
"Oh, and..." Melroy added suddenly, "Take some time to look around the city, if you havenât already."
Elion nodded.
"Alexander will show you to the guest rooms," Melroy continued, waving a hand lazily. "And he will be responsible for making sure you are well-equipped when you finally return to wreak havoc on the battlefield. Should you find yourself in need of anything else..."
He trailed off, and Elion nodded again in understanding.
"With that settled, the court is dismissed for today."
Melroy waved his hand once more.
Immediately, a servant hurried to his side, already unfurling a scroll as he approached, ready to continue whatever matters awaited the king next.
The gathering began to filter out of the throne room fluidly.
Nobles dispersed into clusters, servants moved with quiet urgency, and the once unified court dissolved into a shifting sea of conversations.
Elion exhaled softly.
âFinally!â
He had assumed, quite reasonably, that Alexander would immediately show him to his quarters. But unfortunately, that didnât happen.
The moment they stepped out of the vast throne room and back into the corridor, where the guards stood like stiff sentinels, Alexander gave him an apologetic glance, and then he disappeared. Vanished into an approaching crowd of nobles and officials before Elion could even react.
It took him a second to understand what had just happened.
"...You bastard," Elion muttered under his breath.
What followed was something he hoped to never experience again in this lifetime.