Chapter 487: Act 235 – Princess Grifian’s Letter
‘You yearn for the flag of the late King Eke, but whether the glory still remains in Erluin, as the daughter of King Auberg and a royal princess, I cannot answer; my lord, you have fulfilled the promise mentioned in the letter in Toniger, such steadfastness is exemplary; now, as the northern rebels rise, the kingdom teeters on the brink, and as a direct descendant of the Corvado family, I cannot show even a hint of retreat.’
‘I am very grateful for your trust; if hope still exists in Erluin, then it surely resides in our hearts. This letter is to give you a response of hope; I promise to change this country, even at the cost of everything.’
Princess Grifian Corvado Saint Odrefice gently closed the letter, her expression calm, as if no worries existed aboard this decaying, soon-to-sink ship. Yet this was merely the calm before the storm, with dark clouds gathering on the horizon, about to unleash their fury.
A knock came from outside the door, and the servant in a red robe asked for the third time about the schedule arranged by the princess; the coach had long been waiting outside the palace, and Overwell, Makarolo, and other esteemed officials had been waiting for some time.
The meeting with Duke Anlek was imminent; in today’s Erluin, there was no one as important as this figure who could tip the balance of power. Grifian had never expected the young people staying in Vlada-Pes could change the situation. Now, in Erluin, only the armies loyal to Vistanon could counter the allied forces of the northern dukes.
Her half-brother had also attempted to persuade Anlek to join that camp, but regrettably, he couldn’t offer such a high price. Grifian was well aware of that old fox’s intentions; he needed her to bear him a heir of royal blood to legitimize his claim to the throne of Erluin, a position her family had long sought after since the Ten-Year Edict.
But she would rather see rivers of blood flow beneath the throne than tolerate such a thing. Those who betray the sacred oath can never inherit the glorious flag; this would tarnish the Oath of the Lionheart. Moreover, Anlek had been secretly entangled with the Everything Returns Society for years. They believed they were flawless, but such things could never be kept perfectly secret.
Yet, the lips of the youthful half-elf princess could not help but curl into a tightly pressed line, an expression of silent ridicule, as no one was a fool here. The season of melting snow was near; further delays would push Anlek’s province to the other side. As a royal princess, she had already made her choice.
Grifian bowed her head and reached out with her slender fingers, gently smoothing the soft hair on her brother’s forehead.
“Sister?” The future heir of Erluin looked up, gazing anxiously at his sister in the flickering light of the tallow candle.
“You will be king, Haruz,” the princess said.
“I know, you have said it before; I am the king of Erluin,” the boy replied.
“Yes, I will pave the way for you; no one can change the revival of this country, I have already arranged everything.” Grifian spoke softly, as if describing a vision: “But you must become strong, Haruz.”
She lifted her head, her silver eyes seemingly piercing through the upcoming storm, beholding a grim conclusion, assassination, conspiracy, bloodied roses on the throne, yet the land after the storm would surely witness rebirth.
“Yes, I have grown strong; I practice swordsmanship every day,” the boy raised his head and noticed the letter in his sister’s hand: “Sister, who are you writing to?”
“A knight.”
“I also want to become a knight,” after a year of hardship and leaving the royal family, the boy had learned the sharpness and cunning appropriate for his age, and he watched his princess sister, “They say you are going to Ampere Seale?”
“Yes.”
“What will I do if you go?”
“You should learn to make certain decisions on your own; do you remember what I told you? You are a man, Haruz; you must steer the ship well,” Grifian answered.
“Oh,” the boy said somewhat disappointed: “Then you must come back soon; otherwise, there will be no one to assess my swordsmanship.”
Grifian couldn’t help but force a smile; her frail brother had also learned to speak in circles.
“That… he…” The future heir of Erluin seemed to want to continue the topic but hesitated, appearing somewhat tongue-tied.
“He?”
“I mean that knight; will he protect you?”
“What exactly are you trying to say?” Grifian glared at her brother.
When she got angry, she was quite intimidating, and the boy couldn’t help but shrink back: “I… I don’t want you to marry Duke Anlek.”
“Why?” The half-elf maiden was somewhat surprised; her timid brother would never say such things to her. She couldn’t help but suspect that someone was influencing him to speak like this, but it seemed unnecessary.
Both Makarolo and the wise elder who had been her teacher hoped for Anlek’s assistance; they could all see the poison behind the honey, yet their intentions were all too clear. Grifian did not wish to contradict their wishes because, at the very least, she still needed the support of the nobility; Erluin would always be the nobility’s Erluin.
The boy shook his head: “I don’t like him.”
“Why? You haven’t even met him.”
“No… I heard…”
“What did you hear?”
“They say Duke Anlek has had several wives, all of whom died; they say that Lord Duke is a vampire, who specializes in drinking women’s blood, sister…” At this moment, the boy had shed the facade of Erluin’s future heir, becoming an ordinary and weak little boy, anxiously looking at his sister.
“Nonsense.”
Grifian scolded.
But this rebuke was somewhat weak, and the boy sensed it. Knowing his sister’s character, if it was truly baseless nonsense, she would surely disregard it. But he did not understand what marriage meant to a sixteen-year-old girl; though she tried to accept it, ultimately it still stirred up an unknown fear.
At this moment, the servant knocked on the door for the fourth time; the persistent knock was like balancing the heavy stone on the girl’s heart, and she took a breath, regaining her resolve.
Grifian touched Haruz’s forehead; she stood up, and the maids came forth to smooth her hair and the wrinkles in her clothes. The princess extended her arms, overcoming all external factors, ensuring the composure of the Corvado family was not distanced by even a fraction.
This was her choice.
As she stepped out, a young knight from the Royal Academy softly advised, “Your Highness, even if you stay at the academy, we are willing to fight to the death for the glory of the Erluin royal family; there’s no need to bow to traitors.”
But Grifian turned back and replied calmly, “Erluin does not need to shed the blood of the future, for that time has not yet come.”
Then she lifted her skirt and stepped onto the coach, leaving behind a thin shadow.
But it was this frail pair of shoulders that would soon bear the hope of Erluin’s revival in the not-so-distant future.
…
Brendel gently pinched the letter closed between his thumb and index finger, letting out a soft sigh. It was as if time had reversed, and this moment returned to the origin of everything; it was a decisive moment for Erluin’s future, the stage that had been played in the past still remained unchanged today, but where the future would lead, who could be certain?
“The hope of Erluin resides in our hearts…” He repeated this sentence several times, his heart filled with confusion. The hope of Erluin existed in the hearts of everyone who had fought for it, but having dreams could not change everything; he had personally experienced that feeling of powerlessness. This time, he would take charge of his own destiny.
Carglis stood to one side, watching his lord; he had never seen such an expression on Brendel’s face. The young lord was usually full of composed confidence. He wanted to see what was written in the letter in Brendel’s hand, but unfortunately, he could not; the letter had been magically treated, and he saw only a blank space.
“Whose letter is this?” he couldn’t help but ask.
“It’s a letter from Princess Grifian to me; she appreciates our efforts in finding the Earl some embarrassment in Toniger.” In an instant, Brendel regained his composure, having experienced too many dangers and hardships, he had grown and was no longer the easily swayed Sofie.
Carglis looked doubtfully at his lord, “Ha, I won’t be fooled this time. If Her Highness would write to us traitors, then wouldn’t those who hanged themselves from Anval to Yusong Avenue be loyalists?”
Hearing him compare those bandits to himself, Brendel couldn’t help but glance at him: “Didn’t I tell you? I am Her Highness’s secret knight.”
“Then I am the attendant to the Dark Dragon,” Carglis said dismissively.
Brendel opened his mouth, staring at this guy in shock.
“What’s wrong?”
“No, I was just wondering if you secretly studied astrology with Antinna?”
“You wouldn’t say I guessed right again, would you, my lord? Ha ha, you can’t fool me with such old tricks!” Carglis suddenly found his lord very amusing, calling himself the Dark Dragon was a brilliant joke.
But even the most clever joke would be interrupted by a series of ringing bells; Brendel looked up to see several silver orchids on the hall’s walls shaking and making sounds. He turned back to Monica.
“Those are signalling orchids; someone is approaching outside, my lord,” the Light Spirit lady said, sitting on his shoulder.
“Why didn’t they alert us before?”
“Those were planted by us; Valhalla is also the home of the light spirits; we plan to plant some more hanging orchids later.”
Brendel had already caught a glimpse of the figure of his mage servant by the entrance to the hall; Charles was holding a staff, dressed in a flowing robe of golden-red, followed by the timid mage Duncan, holding his duck familiar.
“This place is not bad; it’s similar to your old home in Daniel, my lord.” Charles strolled into the hall leisurely, surveying his surroundings.
My old home in Daniel?
Brendel was dumbfounded; the Highland Knights were stationed in Daniel—but looking at his mage servant’s serious demeanor, he nearly believed he had something significant in Karasu.
He glared at Charles in annoyance, and the young Highland wizard seemed not to notice, bowing to him: “The task is arduous, but finally, we have gained a foothold; congratulations, my lord. I bring you some good news.”
“Good news?”
“You’d better take a look at this, my lord.” Charles produced something.
Brendel suddenly stood up from behind his desk.
Destiny card.
…
(First update, then leaving. Will continue writing tonight. I know many people say I lack planning and don’t notify before doing something; well, this indeed is a flaw… Anyway, I am more aimless, but I will try to pay attention in the future. Thank you, everyone.) (To be continued. If you enjoy this work, you are welcome to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendation votes and monthly tickets; your support is my greatest motivation.)
