Chapter 13: 013
As the first lunari born into the royal family in seven generations, Princess Lysandra had always been a subject of fascination. However, Lysandra believed herself to be like any other blue-blood woman. She felt unimpressed with the attending guests until her sight landed on a striking stranger. For the first time in years, she felt an urge to venture beyond her small, familiar circle.
Her cheeks flushed faintly as she touched her collar. “Who is he?”
Peggy and Eleanor turned subtly, peering over their fans.
“Is it Lord Bartell?” Peggy asked.
“No. The tall gentleman he’s speaking to.”
The two women gasped softly, sharing a look of disbelief.
“Do you really not know who he is?” Eleanor whispered, moving closer.
“He must be a noble, but I’ve never seen him before.” Lysandra admitted.
“That is Prince Nathaniel Blackwell,” Peggy revealed, her tone reverent. “Son of Grand Duke Lucian Blackwell and the late Grand Duchess Grace.”
“Linfield’s most eligible bachelor,” Eleanor chimed in. “Intelligent, strong, excellent fencer, charming, wealthy from two prestigious bloodlines… and heavens, his smile. I would leave my fiancé in a heartbeat if Prince Nathaniel glanced my way. They are rumours of the outstanding alpha being like his father.”
“And their family.” Peggy added.
“Sweet and brooding?” Lysandra asked.
“Prince Nathaniel is rumoured to be cold and indifferent. Our kind usually take a partner or many for ruts or heats when it’s unbearable, but he has never been involved in such scandals. Some even claim he’s… unable to perform.” Eleanor whispered.
Lysandra gasped, clutching her chest. “The poor man! Surely an alpha shouldn’t be if he endures his rut. Alphas can’t be infertile.”
“It’s never been proven.” Eleanor said.
Peggy leaned closer, her tone conspiratorial. “I heard he has a secret lover from another country. They say he is working on bringing his lover to Eldoria.”
“There are also secrets in the Blackwell family that are tightly guarded. The servants’ lips are sealed, no matter how chatty they might seem.”
Lysandra's curiosity grew. “What secrets?”
“It is possible Prince Nathaniel might be afflicted with an incurable sickness from childhood.” Peggy whispered.
“I heard it was to conceal that he is an omega.” Eleanor added.
“That’s impossible, he’s clearly an alpha!” Lysandra stated.
“Or so they want us to believe.” Eleanor smiled.
“Then there’s rumours that the Grand Duke murdered his wife.” Peggy added dramatically.
“Enough!” Lysandra cut in, brushing her gown with an air of finality. “These rumours are getting more absurd by the second. I’ll speak to him.”
“Lysandra don’t–” The girls protested but the princess was already on her way.
She approached him and lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned, his sharp amber eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, Lysandra felt her heart skip a beat
“A pleasure to make acquaintance, Prince Nathaniel.” she said with a warm smile “The service has been excellent all night.”
“The pleasure’s all mine.” He replied, his voice smooth and polite. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, my lady.”
“I am not a lady,” She corrected, lifting her chin slightly. “I am Princess Lysandra II of Eldoria, daughter of the deceased King Edmund and Queen mother Lois.”
Nathaniel’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Princess Lysandra? The one who couldn’t climb down from the apple tree when she was five.”
“Have we met before?” Princess Lysandra asked, raising a brow. “I wouldn’t forget a charming face like yours.”
“Jump, I’ll catch you.” Nathan quoted, his tone teasing.
The memory rushed back to her, vivid and unexpected. As a child, Lysandra had been confined to the palace grounds, always under supervision. The age gap between her and her three brothers left her isolated, and the servants’ children were cautious, their interactions with her hesitant, fearing reprimand.
In the palace garden where she played, there stood an apple tree, planted near the high stone wall. One afternoon, the sound of laughter drifted over the wall—bright, carefree, and full of life. Curiosity overwhelmed her, and she climbed the tree, her small hands gripping the rough bark as she ascended higher and higher. Peeking over the wall, she saw children playing, their laughter ringing through the air as they chased each other. For hours, she sat perched among the branches, longing to join them.
But when it came time to climb down, fear gripped her, and tears spilled silently down her cheeks. Then, a boy appeared—a stranger, older than her, with a dirt-smudged face and dirtier clothes with an even scruffier lunari behind him. After he helped her down, they played together. That was the last time she ever saw him–her first love.
“It’s you!” Lysandra cheeks tinged pink as she recalled the scruffy blonde boy with dirt-streaked cheeks. “Did your father scold you?”
“Our butler did,” Nathaniel chuckled. “We had to wash our clothes as a reminder to appreciate the maids when we make things difficult.”
Lysandra laughed, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “How have you been?”
“I have been well. How have you been, Princess?” Nathaniel asked, his voice calm that Lysandra’s chest throbbed.
“Same.” She murmured. “But now, I feel wonderful, reuniting after all these years. No one knew who you were when I asked, and I didn’t think Uncle Lucian was your father."
“I am my mother’s son in character and likeness.”
“It’s your birthday, yet you haven’t asked anyone to dance. Mother says a party isn’t over if the guest of honour hasn’t danced, it simply isn’t done. Do you want to dance?”
“No.”
“I want to dance.” Lysandra admitted, glancing at the dancers. “I’m hoping you will ask me.”
Nathaniel glanced at her then the guests dancing. Prior to the party, his father hammered the importance of fostering a good relationship with the royal family. Their lineage was perceived as a threat, with Grace’s bloodline abdicating the throne for the current ruling family; they needn’t more.
“Would you like to dance, Princess?” Nathaniel offered his hand to Lysandra.
“Yes, I would be delighted.” Lysandra accepted his hand and
As they stepped onto the dance floor, the music shifted, and the lights dimmed. The room stilled, all eyes on the pair. Lysandra and Nathaniel curtsied each other before his hand settled firmly on Lysandra’s waist, drawing her closer, while their fingers intertwined, one at a time. His warmth seeped through her gloves, sending a shiver down her spine as her eyes coyly met his.
They danced, their movements elegant and harmonious, igniting a flurry of whispers among the spectators.