Sold to a Prince!

Chapter 223  A wedding?

A calculated smile slid across Elder Calypso's scaly face as he turned to the king. "Might I suggest a compromise?"

"Why not allow Princess Sylvia to prove her point? If she's so convinced that peace can be achieved, then let her demonstrate it in a manner that is undeniable. I happen to know a human king who is also willing to establish a peace treaty with us."

Calypso then turned to Sylvia and continued, "If the princess is willing, we can travel together to the human lands and negotiate a peace treaty."

Frederick's eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Sylvia spoke. "I accept this proposal. But I have a condition: if I succeed, not only shall we consider a peace treaty, but I would also like the freedom to establish diplomatic relationships with human nations."

Frederick weighed his options. He was visibly tense, caught between the snare of public expectation and his own reservations. Yet, faced with the determination in Sylvia's eyes, and the newfound support she had from Elder Calypso—a figure of significant influence—he gave a reluctant nod.

"Very well. If you are successful in this endeavor, you will have my blessing to pursue diplomatic relationships with the human realms. But let me make one thing clear: the second you sense treachery, or if the mission jeopardizes our clan in any way, you will withdraw and return immediately. Is that understood?"

Sylvia bowed her head slightly. "Perfectly, Father."

Calypso's forked tongue darted out momentarily as if tasting the air. "Excellent! It seems we have an accord. I shall make the necessary preparations for our journey."

Soon after that the gathering dispersed with the atmosphere still tense.

As they walked down the stone-lined corridors of the temple, Calypso caught up to Sylvia and spoke, "You have a fiery spirit, young princess. Yet, fire can be both a life-giver and a destroyer. I wonder, which will you be?"

Sylvia looked at him. "I intend to illuminate, Elder Calypso, not incinerate."

The elder serpent chuckled. "Well said. But know this, the path ahead is fraught with uncertainty. You'll be challenging age-old beliefs, and breaking barriers that have existed for centuries. Are you prepared for the consequences?"

Sylvia nodded. "Change is never easy, and often it's uncomfortable. But stagnation is a slow poison, Elder. We risk more by doing nothing."

Calypso observed Sylvia, his eyes flickering with what could be best described as respect. "Then let us prepare for the journey. We have a world to change."

***

A few days later the emissary from the beast Empire arrived at the lands beyond the ocean, the same part from which Sylvia had once run away. This time, however, her arrival was met with pomp and show.

Garlands of intertwining flora and fauna draped across the city's gates, a tapestry of the natural world crafted in delicate harmony. Trumpets heralded their approach, filling the air with the buoyant music of impending change.

As they rode through the streets, Sylvia caught glimpses of curious faces, eyes widened in disbelief and wonder. Many still saw her kind as monsters, the embodiment of fear itself. Today, she had a chance to begin rewriting that narrative.

King Alistair stood at the steps of his palace, flanked by advisors and guards. He extended his arm in a formal yet warm greeting. "Welcome, Princess Sylvia, Elder Calypso. We have been expecting you."

"Thank you, King Alistair. We come bearing hopes of peace and the promise of a united future," Sylvia replied, stepping forward and offering a small case to Alistair. He opened it to find a crystal carved in the shape of a dragon and a human hand clasped together—a symbol of unity.

Alistair looked at the crystal, visibly moved. "A beautiful symbol, indeed. Come, let us discuss the possibilities over a banquet."

The emissary moved in and walking at the end of the group, Roman sighed a little.

Reading his mind, Isaac also shook his head. "I have a strange feeling, Rome. I don't know why. A strange unsettling feeling."

"Hmmm... Me too." The lycan lord replied.

Isaac immediately sighed in exasperation. "Well, you have one because your dearest princess is meeting another man and is going to spend time with him. But I am talking about my actual danger senses."

Roman rolled his eyes and did not say anything. Even though his friend was blabbering some nonsense, there was some truth to what he said. Roman also felt it. Something was amiss.

Contemplating various things, his gaze fell on the sparkling figure at the center of the parade. Sylvia's face was beaming with happiness. "Would she even listen to me?" Roman shook his head.

He had seen countless schemes unravel and diplomatic endeavors collapse; his faith in idealistic pursuits like Sylvia's was little more than a flicker in a hurricane.

So as he moved through the opulent corridors of King Alistair's palace, he did not let his guard down and vigilantly watched for signs of deception or subterfuge.

His heightened senses were on high alert, parsing through the ambiance and body language of every person he encountered. It was not distrust in Sylvia's judgment that drove him; it was his innate caution, refined over years of dealing with cunning adversaries and betrayals.

Isaac nudged him. "Our senses rarely lie, Rome. Be prepared for anything."

"I always am," Roman replied, his blue eyes never leaving Sylvia as she entered the banquet hall, surrounded by a mixture of human and beast nobility. Their gazes met for a split second, but Sylvia broke and turned away, continuing her conversation with Alistair.

The human king, King Alistair, was a pragmatic man in his late forties with a very charming and handsome visage. He welcomed them in a grand hall adorned with artifacts of human history. "It's an honor to host members of the dragon clan." He spoke with a smile.

The banquet began with the customary exchanges, toasts, and polite conversations that barely scratched the surface of the issues at hand.

The banquet hall was an extravagant spectacle, bathed in the glow of enchanted chandeliers that mimicked a twilight sky.

As discussions flowed like the fine wines being served, Roman caught snatches of conversations—military alliances, cultural exchanges, joint endeavors against common enemies.

Finally, dessert was served—a fantastical creation made of ethereal sugar webs, capturing droplets of nectar, embodying the art of human culinary expertise. Calypso, never one to miss a dramatic moment, chose this time to unveil another proposal.

"While our military alliance is a practical first step," Calypso began, raising a scaly hand to quiet the room, "we must also consider the soul of our nations. We should form deeper bonds." Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Roman immediately had a bad feeling and the next second...

Calypso declared, "We should unite our two lands with the holy bond of matrimonial union!"