As King Alastair and Prince rode their horses into the palace grounds, the warm sun cast a golden glow over the manicured lawns and intricately carved stone walls. The sound of their horses' hooves echoed through the courtyard, accompanied by the soft chirping of birds and the distant hum of palace guards going about their duties. After a spirited competition, the king and prince were laughing and joking, their earlier tension forgotten.
As they dismounted their horses, The Prince's expression turned serious. "Father, why has Duke Larry not hosted the ball?" he asked, his voice tinged with irritation. "I mean, the time you gave him to host the ball, so he can introduce Zilayefa as his betrothed, has already passed."
King Alastair's smile faltered, and he regarded his son with a measured gaze. "Son, you should give up on that girl," he said firmly. "Besides, she's just a maid in his palace, her parents are paupers. I don't want you involving yourself with the likes of her."
The prince's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger and jealousy. "Father, I love her," he declared, his voice low and intense.
King Alastair's expression softened, but his tone remained firm. He understood his son's obsession with Zilayefa, but he couldn't allow it to continue. He knew the Duke was not an easy man to deal with, and he was still perplexed about the reason for the Duke's desire to marry a pauper like Zilayefa.
The king paused, taking a deep breath as he looked at his son. He held Prince Ryder's face in his palms, his eyes locking onto his son's. "Kill those feelings, and I don't want to hear a word of it again from you," he said sternly. "You are a prince, and you shall marry a princess of noble birth."
The prince's eyes widened, stunned by his father's words. He had told his father he loved Zilayefa, thinking the king might relent and allow him to have her as a concubine. But now, he realized his father would never agree to such a thing.
In truth, the prince wasn't in love with Zilayefa. His desire for her stemmed from pride and a sense of conquest. She had rejected him that night, and he couldn't bear the thought of her belonging to another man, especially Duke Larry.
The prince's thoughts were a jumble of emotions as he struggled to understand his own feelings. He had always gotten what he wanted, and the thought of being denied Zilayefa was unbearable.
"I understand what you mean, Father," the prince said finally, his voice measured. "I just want her as a concubine."
King Alastair's face darkened, his expression displeased. "You are not getting a concubine until you get a bride from one of the Three Kingdoms," he said, his voice firm. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the prince standing alone in the courtyard.
The king's words hung in the air, a clear indication of his priorities. The safety and well-being of Nero were paramount, and he would not let his son's desires compromise that. As the prince watched his father disappear into the palace, he felt a surge of frustration and anger. He would find a way to get what he wanted, no matter what.
Meanwhile, Duke Larry's silence on hosting the ball remained a mystery. The prince wondered what was going on, his mind racing with possibilities. Was the Duke having second thoughts about marrying Zilayefa? Or was something more sinister at play?
The prince's determination grew. He would find a way to claim Zilayefa, even if it meant going against his father's wishes. The game was on, and the prince was ready to play.