The Vain Princess and Her Dragon Knight

Chapter 5

"Has the princess finally accepted Lucia as future queen?"

"They say Princess Gloria is so arrogant she deliberately sabotaged Lucia before the King, which is why the engagement to the Crown Prince was delayed."

"And I heard that the princess..."

"Hush. That elf beside her is looking at us."

The gossiping girls instantly stopped, recovering their graceful, smiling poise behind their fans. They stole glances across the ballroom at the golden-haired princess and the tall elf beside her. He seemed only to have glanced their way idly—probably hadn't noticed them at all. Yet no matter what rumors swirled around Princess Gloria, no one could deny that her beauty was the Empire's singular jewel. Even standing in an unlit corner, she and her companion seemed to glow.

The noble girls shook their fans more vigorously, their expressions a complicated mix of admiration and envy.

"The princess is so fortunate. The moment she loses Prince Gareth, an elf of even rarer status appears at her side."

"I've never even seen an elf before."

"Neither have I."

Crown Prince Gareth finished his opening dance, exchanged brief words with several high-ranking nobles, then strode directly toward Gloria. Lucia was left behind, forcing a smile, inwardly mortified. She had hoped Gareth might think of her, might spare her the humiliation of standing alone. But his eyes held only his arrogant, willful sister. Even after agreeing to consider her father's proposed alliance, he still rushed to his sister's side the moment the dance ended.

Lucia's smile stayed frozen, but her gaze turned cold as she stared at the innocent-looking golden girl across the room. *Hypocrite.*

Gloria and Gareth shared similar features, though his handsome face carried an added********* dignity. His flaxen hair, tinged with orange, was swept back in a high ponytail.

Gloria tilted her chin, turning deliberately away from her brother. Instead, she looked up at the elf beside her. "Cui, would you like to dance?"

She wasn't ready to speak with Gareth yet. A proper lady would wait demurely to be invited, but Gloria had never truly cared for such rules. She followed them when it pleased her and ignored them when it didn't. To her delight, Cui was equally indifferent.

His jade eyes softened warmly, as if looking at a spirited young charge. "It would be my honor." He stepped before her, bowing with an extended hand.

Just as Gloria was about to place her hand in his, her knight stepped forward. "Your Highness, His Majesty the King requests your presence."

"Now?" She'd wanted to dance with the elf. "Is it urgent? Could I have this one dance first?"

"The King and his guest are waiting," Elstar said, his tone objective and cool.

A guest important enough for her father to summon her? Yet if she left now, what about Cui? The elf, ever perceptive, said gently, "Go, Rori. I'll wait for you." Truly, elves were the most thoughtful of creatures.

"Then it's settled," Gloria said, brightening. "I owe you a dance, Cui."

He answered with a tender smile.

In the King's study, the guards needed no announcement. Spotting the princess from afar, they simply opened the doors. The portly King sat behind his desk, gazing at his daughter with doting eyes. His silver hair held only a few remaining strands of the darker, orange-tinged curls that Gareth had inherited. His aged face was etched with wrinkles, each one radiating paternal affection. A thick, single-lens reading glass perched on his nose.

"Daddy, you wanted me?"

"Yes, my darling little Rori. Come sit beside me." The King patted the space next to him on the throne—a seat meant for the monarch alone. But Gloria had clambered over it since childhood. She'd even chipped off a piece of the carved golden rose on its back, which the King now kept displayed on his desk, forbidding anyone from discarding it.

"My pretty pearl, did you enjoy the ball?"

"Mostly." Gloria wrinkled her nose with a theatrical huff. "But..."

"What is it, my treasure? Who's upset you? Tell Daddy, and he'll deal with them."

"Promise you will!" Gloria straightened up, launching into a vividly dramatic report, utterly indifferent to Gareth being her own brother. "He found another partner tonight without telling me! I didn't even get to dance the opening dance! You must punish him properly. To soothe my wounded heart, I demand..." She held up three fingers, waving them with a grin. "This much! As compensation for your poor little daughter."

The princess's golden eyes curved like those of a greedy dragon hatchling from the bards' tales—the kind that lounged atop mountains of gold in the deepest caves of Victorio.

"Oh, how could your brother do this!" The King echoed her outrage, stroking her hair. "Our sweet Rori is far too merciful. Gareth must make a proper apology. I remember, two years ago, he petitioned to build a seaside retreat near Atlantis—a fortified villa, nearly finished now, in the most scenic spot..." He rummaged through his desk, pulling out architectural plans and property deeds, and pushed them all toward Gloria. "The deeds haven't been given to that rascal yet. Now he won't get them at all!"

Gloria stared, dumbfounded, at the string of zeros on the documents. She'd meant to extort maybe thirty thousand gold coins for a hot spring renovation—and instead she'd walked away with an entire luxury estate.

The King pressed a quill into her hand, dipped in gold ink. "Go on, sign it!" She did, in a daze. He cheerfully blew on the ink. With the magical contract sealed, the property was irrevocably hers.

"There now, my treasure. You can visit Atlantis whenever you like. Happy?"

"Happy...?" She blinked. "But Atlantis is so far..." She was used to the palace, where every tile had been chosen to her taste. Uprooting herself seemed unappealing.

The King understood. "It's just one extra signature, darling. Nothing to worry about. Besides, Atlantis has been stormy lately—no sun for weeks. Come summer, when the seas are calm, Daddy will take you to see the golden shores himself."

Hearing he would accompany her, Gloria finally, reluctantly, nodded. "Alright."

Then she remembered. "But Daddy, didn't you say a guest was waiting? Where is he?"

"Ah, yes. My memory fails me." The King chuckled, tapping his head. "Getting old."

"You're not old!" she protested.

He laughed. "Darling, everyone ages." Seeing her frown, he quickly moved on. "Alright, alright. Daddy will always love his Rori best."

The King gestured toward the wall beside the door, where his old greatsword hung—forged of mithril, its magical engravings absorbing all surrounding light into its blade's edge. Only when swung by its master did its ferocious brilliance reveal itself.

Gloria knew her father had once lived an epic worthy of legend. Before taking the Sessel throne, he had been a famed wandering hero, a peerless Holy Swordsman whose deeds would take three days and nights to recount. The people had called him the greatest light of Sessel since King Arthur of the Third Era. But human lifespans were finite. After two centuries, after slaying a colossal beast to save hundreds of villagers, he'd returned home and accepted the crown from his dying descendant.

Then came Gareth, who inherited all his talents. Then Gloria—frail from birth, afflicted with a strange ailment no physician could cure. The King had poured his heart into keeping his Rori healthy and happy. All he wanted was for her to live without worry.

"Rori darling, do you see that old fellow over there?"

She snuggled against him, following his gaze lazily. "Yes, Daddy. I see your sword." But where was the guest? Surely the greatsword hadn't sprouted a spirit?

The King teased, "Look closer."

"Daddy..." She dragged out the syllables, twisting her voice into a soft, petulant whine. "I really don't see anyone."

"Alright, alright. No more teasing." Chuckling, he coughed and composed himself. "Su Ka, stop brooding over my sword. The old thing will get bashful if a handsome young wolf from the East stares too long."

From the sword's shadow, a figure emerged—a young man in black, tall and cold, his neck slightly bowed forward, chin lifted with a wolf's defiant pride. Unlike the reserved elves who hid their ears, this dark-haired youth wore his atop his head openly—a pair of black wolf ears, furry and alert, peeking from his tousled, half-long hair. Half his body remained in darkness, his silhouette nearly blending into it. No wonder Gloria hadn't spotted him.

She stared at those furry ears, transfixed. *They move. Oh heavens, they actually move.* A brooding beast-eared warrior—the archetype was simply too thrilling.

The King took in his daughter's every reaction with a knowing smile and beckoned the young man forward. "This is my precious daughter, Gloria. You two will soon be classmates!"

"Classmates?!" Gloria's head whipped around. "Daddy, what are you talking about?" Why was she suddenly going to school?