Page 12 of Lost Heir
The people of Celeste, their foreheads marked with thesacred crescent moon birthmark, gathered in droves along the caravan's path. Their cheers and jubilant cries filled the air, a cacophony of welcome and celebration. The warmth in their eyes combined with genuine smiles spoke volumes of their elation at my return. I, who had wandered far from the land that birthed me, was home again, embraced by a community I thought had long forgotten me.
Once we entered the palace grounds, my surroundings changed drastically.
The palace came into view, a majestic structure that stood as a testament to Valorian artistry and devotion, marking the culmination of our journey. Rising from the heart of the capital, its spires reached towards the heavens, a silent prayer to the moon goddess. As we made our way to the palace, the atmosphere shifted from the communal warmth of the town to the solemn grandeur befitting the heart of a kingdom. The palace grounds, a sprawling expanse of meticulously tended gardens and imposing structures, stood as a beacon of Valoria's might and majesty.
Slowly, the caravan came to a halt. Once we were safely behind the palace gates, Viktor opened my carriage door.
I turned to Selene, who was seated beside me and whispered, “Stay here. I’ll send someone for you. If Marcellus comes to get you, don’t go with him. It’s best if you’re not seen together just yet.”
“Leila …” she started, her face creased with worry.
I took her hand and gripped it tightly. “I promise to keep you safe, Selene. But for me to do that, I need you to listen to me. Do you understand?”
She nodded stiffly.
“I won’t be long.” I released her hand and slowly exited the carriage, gratefully accepting Viktor’s hand as he helped me out of the carriage. Before he could pull away, Iwhispered, “Get someone you trust to escort Selene out of here and into my quarters. Don’t let any of the ladies from my mother’s court see her.”
“Understood, Your Highness,” he replied, his voice equally low, a shared understanding of the task at hand.
Together, we approached the Grand Hall, the palace's heart, where history and the present converged. The courtyard, a vast expanse of cobblestone interlaced with verdant patches of grass, was alive with blooming flowers and the gentle murmur of fountains, their waters catching the sunlight and scattering it like jewels. Statues of past rulers and heroes of Valoria stood sentinel, their stone gazes fixed eternally forward as if guiding us along our path.
The walk to the Grand Hall was a journey through time, the air perfumed with the scent of lavender and rosemary from the surrounding gardens. The towering doors of the hall loomed before us, their wood carved with scenes of lunar worship and Valorian victories, evidence of the country's enduring reverence for the moon goddess and its storied past.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change first?” Caelan called out as he stood a few paces ahead, waiting for us.
I looked down at my trousers and blouse and knew he wanted me to change into attire more appropriate for a princess. But the truth was that I was no longer the pampered girl covered in silks and gowns. This was who I was now, and I wanted my parents to see who I had become.
“No. I’m fine the way I am.” I lifted my chin and attempted to walk past him, but he gripped my arm, stopping me.
“Lyanna,” he whispered into my ear. “You—”
I narrowed my gaze on his grip. “Release me,” I gritted between my teeth. “Unless you want me to cause a scene.”
As if I’d thrown acid at him, he jerked back and released me at once. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know. But I would prefer if you kept your hands to yourself,” I retorted.
He exhaled loudly before nodding. “Very well.”
After motioning us to walk forward, I followed Caelan towards the Grand Hall. We crossed the threshold in silence, the weight of the occasion settling around us like a leaden cloak. The Grand Hall, with its high vaulted ceilings and walls adorned with tapestries depicting the phases of the moon, welcomed us into its hushed embrace. Light filtered through stained glass windows, casting the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. Each measured step echoed on the marble floor, announcing our arrival.
It was in this moment, balancing between the beauty of the courtyard and the majesty of the Grand Hall, that I felt the full weight of my return to Valoria—a blend of duty, anticipation, and the silent promise of challenges to come.
The doors were opened by mages who stood guard as our arrival was announced. Their robes fluttered gently in the breeze, a silent witness to their vigilance.
“Her Highness, Princess Lyanna with Prince Caelan of Eldwain,” announced a guard, his voice echoing off the stone walls as we stepped into the grandeur that awaited.
At the far end, seated upon thrones that seemed to capture the very essence of the night sky, were my parents.
My father, once the embodiment of Valorian strength, bore the marks of a decade's passage. His hair, formerly a dark cascade, now whispered tales of wisdom and trials in strands of silver and gray. The lines at the corners of his eyes spoke volumes, each a story of laughter, worry, and the burden of rule. Yet his eyes, those clear pools of blue, ignited with a light I hadn't seen in years as he rose to greet us.
My mother, the epitome of regal poise, had managed to cloak the years in an aura of timeless beauty. Her hair, styled in a perfect chignon, betrayed no hint of silver, though I wondered at the magic that might have kept the years at bay. Her face, taut with the efforts to preserve her youth, softened into a smile that, despite its warmth, couldn't quite reach the cool detachment of her gaze.
Together, they presented the dual faces of Valoria—strength tempered with grace, power cloaked in beauty. As we advanced, the distance closing with each step, the weight of the moment settled upon me, a mantle of expectation and reunion that was ten years in the making.
My father's voice, rich with emotion, broke the ceremonial silence that had cloaked our procession. Meeting us halfway he exclaimed, “Lyanna!” His steps quickened until he enveloped me in an embrace that bridged the chasm of years. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, my darling girl.”
The warmth of his hug thawed the lingering chill of uncertainty within me and tears, unbidden, traced paths of relief down my cheeks. “I missed you, too.” My voice barely rose above a whisper, laden with a decade's worth of unsaid words.
