Aurelian

The royal carriage finally came to a halt before the grand entrance of Wendlyn's palace.

Spring flowers bloomed everywhere along the marble courtyard, their colors vivid beneath the warm southern sunlight. Music played softly as the visiting delegation descended from their carriages, greeted by the assembled nobles and royal guards.

At the top of the palace steps stood the royal family.

Aurelian stood beside his parents in the formal white attire of the Wendlyn royal family. His black hair contrasted sharply against the white of his clothing, making him immediately conspicuous among the blonde members of his family.

His expression was calm and unreadable.

When the princess finally appeared, his dark eyes settled upon her.

So this was the woman he was going to marry.

He had opposed the proposal when their fathers first discussed it. He had argued that she should not be made to bear the burden of becoming the wife of a man whom many in Wendlyn regarded with quiet contempt. He had warned that she might eventually come to resent both him and the kingdom.

None of his objections had changed the decision.

And so, he had accepted it.

Not because he had begun to look forward to marriage, but because he had accepted that this was now another responsibility he was expected to fulfill.

As the princess approached, Aurelian descended the steps to meet her. He stopped at a respectful distance and offered a formal bow.

"Your Highness. Welcome to Wendlyn."

His voice was polite, calm, and perfectly controlled.

"I am Aurelian, Crown Prince of Wendlyn. It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

He straightened and regarded her for a moment before continuing.

"I imagine this arrangement represents a considerable change in your life. I will therefore make one thing clear from the beginning."

There was no hostility in his expression. If anything, his manner was almost excessively courteous.

"You will be treated with the respect and dignity befitting a princess of your station. Your attendants may remain with you, and you will be free to maintain your own customs and correspondence with your homeland."

He paused briefly.

"As for our marriage itself... I believe it would be best if neither of us placed unnecessary expectations upon the other."

His words were gentle, but the meaning behind them was unmistakable.

"I have no intention of interfering with your personal life, nor do I expect you to concern yourself excessively with mine. We both have responsibilities to our respective kingdoms. If we can fulfill those responsibilities without making each other's lives more difficult, I believe that will be sufficient."

For the briefest moment, his gaze softened.

There was something almost apologetic in his eyes.

But it vanished before it could become anything more.

Aurelian offered his hand.

"Please do not feel obligated to become close to me simply because our fathers have decided that we should marry."

A faint, restrained smile appeared on his lips.

"I would much rather you feel at ease here."

He lowered his hand after a moment.

"Welcome to Wendlyn, Your Highness."

The ballroom of Wendlyn's royal palace shimmered beneath hundreds of candlelit chandeliers. Soft music filled the grand hall as nobles from Wendlyn and the visiting kingdom mingled beneath the watchful eyes of the royal court.

Aurelian was nowhere to be seen.

As Crown Prince, he had been expected to attend the welcoming ball, yet some unavoidable matter had apparently delayed his arrival. In his absence, the princess found herself surrounded by several young nobles eager to make conversation with their distinguished foreign guest.

At first, their words were harmless enough.

Then, gradually, the subject turned toward the Crown Prince.

"You have not met Prince Aurelian yet, have you, Your Highness?"

A young nobleman lowered his voice conspiratorially.

"There are... stories about him. Perhaps you should know what kind of man you are expected to marry."

Another noble glanced around before speaking.

"His hair, for one. You must have noticed it. Black as night. They say children with hair like that were once considered omens of disaster."

A young woman beside him gave a nervous laugh.

"I have heard worse. Some old servants claim that his mother gave birth to him during a moonless night, when the boundaries between our world and the realm of demons were weakest."

"They say his eyes are black because there is no light in his soul."

The words were followed by a few uneasy chuckles.

"And honestly," another nobleman continued, "look at Princess Eirene. Blonde hair, fair features, the very image of Queen Freya. If one had to choose which of the royal children truly looked born to rule..."

He deliberately left the sentence unfinished.

Then a calm voice came from behind them.

"Good evening."

The conversation died instantly.

The nobles turned.

Aurelian stood only a few steps away.

He was dressed in formal white, his jet-black hair standing in stark contrast against the pale fabric. His expression was perfectly composed, and there was no obvious anger in his dark eyes.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Aurelian's gaze moved calmly from one noble to another before settling upon the princess.

"I hope you are enjoying the evening, Your Highness."

He approached at an unhurried pace.

"There is no need to look so uncomfortable."

His gaze briefly returned to the nobles.

"I assure you, I have heard considerably more imaginative versions of those stories."

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips.

"I have been told that my hair is an omen of famine, that my eyes can curse livestock, and that I was supposedly conceived by a demon disguised as a traveling merchant."

The absurdity of the examples made the silence even more uncomfortable.

Aurelian's expression remained calm.

"People are remarkably creative when they are given something they do not understand."

He then turned his attention fully toward the princess.

"And there is certainly no reason for you to defend me."

His voice remained gentle, but there was an unmistakable firmness beneath it.

"You have only just arrived in Wendlyn. I would not have you become embroiled in an argument on my account."

He offered her his arm.

"Come. The next dance is about to begin."

For a moment, his eyes met hers.

Something difficult to identify lingered there—perhaps fatigue, perhaps resignation.

But it disappeared almost immediately.

"If you would rather return to your delegation, however, I will understand."

He paused before adding quietly,

"Please do not let the foolishness of others spoil your evening."

With that, Aurelian turned toward the ballroom, leaving the nobles behind without another word.

The night had grown quiet over Wendlyn's royal palace.

Most of the lights in the guest wing had already been extinguished, and the corridors were nearly empty. Yet one room remained illuminated.

The princess had fallen ill several days after her arrival.

At first, Aurelian had behaved as he always did. He summoned the royal physician, instructed the servants to prepare everything necessary, and formally assured her that she should rest.

But as the hours passed and her fever failed to subside, his behavior gradually changed.

He began personally checking on her condition.

He made certain that the physician was informed of every change in her symptoms. He ordered fresh water, medicine, clean linens, and whatever food she might be able to tolerate. He even postponed several meetings and political engagements scheduled for the following day.

Now, well past midnight, Aurelian sat beside her bed.

His formal outer coat had been removed, leaving him in a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. A basin of cool water stood beside him, along with medicine, fresh linens, and a cup of water.

He gently replaced the cool cloth resting against her forehead.

"You are still burning with fever..."

His voice was quieter than usual.

He checked the temperature of the water before soaking the cloth again and carefully placing it against her forehead.

"The physician says there is no immediate cause for alarm, but your fever has not fallen as quickly as he expected."

His normally distant expression was softened by unmistakable concern.

"You need not worry about tomorrow's affairs. I have already postponed my meetings. The kingdom will survive one delayed council session."

A faint trace of dry humor entered his voice, but it disappeared almost immediately.

He adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, making sure she was properly covered.

"Everything you need has been prepared. Your attendants are nearby, and the physician has been instructed to return at the slightest change in your condition."

He fell silent for a moment.

Then, almost reluctantly, he added,

"I will remain here tonight."

There was no hesitation in the statement.

"I realize that such attention may be unnecessary. Nevertheless, I would prefer to see your condition stabilize before I leave."

He remained seated beside the bed, quietly replacing the cool cloth whenever it grew warm.

The hours passed.

Aurelian did not return to his own chambers.

He did not summon a servant to take his place.

He simply remained there, watching over her with a degree of patience and tenderness that would have been difficult to reconcile with the distant Crown Prince most people knew.

At one point, he carefully adjusted the blanket around her shoulders again.

"You don't need to be strong for anyone tonight."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Just rest."

He remained beside her until the night gradually gave way to the first pale light of morning.

By then, the carefully maintained distance he normally kept between himself and others had almost completely disappeared.

If anyone were to ask him why he had spent the entire night caring for his future wife himself, he would probably give the simplest answer imaginable.

She was his future wife.

It was only natural that he should be concerned.

At least, that was what he told himself.