Chapter 42: The Divine Blade and The Crown Prince

[Luceille’s POV — Later — Ashcroft Manor]

I dragged my dead body and whatever remained of my soul through the hallway, one miserable step at a time.

My legs were trembling so badly that I was beginning to wonder whether they still belonged to me. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest, and my arms felt as though someone had replaced my bones with wet noodles.

Training.

My husband had called it training.

I called it attempted murder disguised as marital affection.

At this rate, if I collapsed in the hallway, someone was going to find my corpse tomorrow and politely assume I had become a new type of undead creature.

I was beginning to wonder if the Grand Duke had secretly decided that the best way to show his love was to slowly turn his wife into a corpse; at this point, I wasn’t even walking properly anymore. I was simply moving forward through sheer stubbornness.

One of my white fox beasts followed closely behind me, occasionally sniffing at my legs as though it was trying to determine whether I was still alive. I looked down at it with a tired sigh.

"I’m alive," I muttered. "Barely, but I’m alive."

The fox tilted its head before following me again. "Don’t look at me like that. Your father did this to me."

The fox’s ears twitched.

"Yes. Your terrifying father."

I dragged myself another few steps before a familiar voice came from farther down the corridor.

"Your Grace."

I immediately knew who it was.

Aurelius.

He stood ahead of me with the most innocent expression imaginable, his lips curved into that soft, harmless smile that had fooled absolutely nobody who knew him well. Somehow, that particular smile always appeared whenever I was exhausted, vulnerable, or otherwise incapable of escaping him.

He always wore that smile whenever I was at my weakest.

It was the smile of a man who had just discovered a new scientific opportunity and had decided that my suffering was an acceptable research environment.

I didn’t even stop walking.

"Talk to you later."

I walked straight past him.

Unfortunately, Aurelius simply turned around and followed. "I would like only a little of your time, Your Grace."

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "I don’t trust the phrase ’a little of your time’ when it comes from you."

He chuckled as though I had complimented him. "That’s rather unfair."

"Last time you asked for five minutes, you kept me there for three hours."

"That was an important discussion."

"You made me identify twelve different types of mana stones."

"They were fascinating."

"Facinating until you made me feel tortured."

Aurelius looked genuinely offended. "They were your money."

Ugh... I hate how greedy I am, but he is right, but that doesn’t mean I have any intentions to talk to him.

I sighed and continued toward my chamber.

This was exactly why I avoided conversations with him whenever possible. Aurelius possessed the rare ability to turn a simple question into a three-hour lecture and somehow make it sound like I was the one who had wasted his time.

Unfortunately, just when I thought I might finally escape him, his next question made me stop.

"You’re the Master of the Dragon Sword, aren’t you?"

My feet froze, and for a moment, even the fox behind me stopped moving. I turned around.

Aurelius was watching me with that same faint smile, except now there was something sharper hidden behind it. His eyes gleamed with curiosity, the expression of a man who had just connected several pieces of a puzzle.

Ugh...I hated intelligent people. Especially intelligent people who enjoyed being intelligent.

"What makes you think that?" I asked carefully.

Aurelius’s smile widened. "So you are."

"I didn’t say that."

"You didn’t have to."

I stared at him, and then he stepped closer, lowering his voice as though he were sharing some great secret.

"An elf healer willingly leaving a hidden elven village with you is already suspicious. The elves have remained hidden from humanity for generations. They would hardly send one of their finest healers into Ashcroft Territory simply because you asked."

I remained silent.

"And then there’s the matter of the Divine Dragon’s sword."

My eye twitched, and Aurelius noticed.

"You found it, didn’t you?"

I stared at him for several seconds before finally muttering, "Are you sure you’re an Archmage?"

His eyebrow rose.

"Why?"

"Because you sound less like an archmage and more like a wicked noble who spends his free time spying on everyone else’s business."

Aurelius laughed softly.

"I prefer to think of myself as observant."

"That’s what nosy people call themselves when they want to sound respectable."

His smile widened.

"And yet you still haven’t denied it."

I hated that he had a point. I folded my arms and looked away.

The truth was, Aurelius was far too perceptive for my liking. He had already figured out that something unusual had happened in the Northern Forest, and if I continued lying, he would probably spend the next week following me around until he solved the entire mystery himself.

Finally, I sighed.

"Yes."

Aurelius’s eyes immediately lit up.

"You really found it?"

"The sword found me."

His expression changed, and for once, the amusement disappeared completely. "The sword chose you?"

I nodded reluctantly.

"It recognized me."

Aurelius went silent, his gaze drifted toward the window, as though he were mentally searching through every ancient magical text he had ever read.

I knew that look, this was bad...very bad. Then he turned back toward me.

"Where is it?"

"With the elves."

"With the elves?"

"They’re cleaning it."

Aurelius stared at me. I stared back.

"The legendary Divine Dragon’s blade," he repeated slowly, "is currently being cleaned?"

"It was covered in mud and rust."

His expression became one of genuine disbelief, and I shrugged. "Apparently being a legendary weapon doesn’t protect you from several centuries of dirt."

Aurelius rubbed his forehead.

"I leave the Imperial Palace, settle in Ashcroft, and somehow you manage to uncover a weapon connected to the Divine Dragon."

"I have a talent."

"You have a talent for causing extraordinary problems."

"That’s also possible."

He smiled again, but this time there was something thoughtful behind it.

Then he asked quietly, "Did the sword choose you because of your mana?"

I frowned.

Aurelius’s gaze sharpened.

"Or," he continued, "was there another reason?"

The smile disappeared from my face, and for some reason, that question felt different.

My thoughts immediately returned to the ancient tree in the elven village, the golden light spreading across its roots, and the words that had echoed through the forest.

The dragon has chosen its master.

I didn’t know why the sword had chosen me. I didn’t know what the dragon’s soul saw when it looked at me, and, perhaps most unsettling of all, I didn’t know what would happen when the blade was finally restored and brought back to Ashcroft.

I looked at Aurelius.

"I don’t know."

His expression became serious. "Then we should find out."

I immediately groaned.

"Those are the exact words I was afraid you would say."

Aurelius smiled, and somehow, I knew that my peaceful days were officially numbered.

***

[Cassian’s POV — Ashcroft Manor — His Office]

The office was silent except for the faint crackling of the fire.

Cassian sat behind his desk, his attention fixed on the letter resting between his fingers. The parchment was expensive, its edges trimmed neatly, and the crimson wax seal bearing the Imperial crest was impossible to mistake.

A letter from the Imperial Palace; his eyes moved across the contents once.

The Crown Prince would be visiting the Northern Territories.

That alone was not enough to concern him.

The Crown Prince had every right to travel through imperial territory. If the palace wished to inspect the northern borders or discuss political matters, Cassian had no reason to interfere, but the next sentence changed everything.

The Crown Prince wished to be personally welcomed by the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Ashcroft.

Cassian’s fingers tightened around the parchment, his eyes darkened as he continued reading.

The Crown Prince specifically requested that Lady Luceille Ashcroft accompany her husband in greeting him upon his arrival.

For several seconds, Cassian didn’t move; the fire crackled behind him, and then the parchment slowly crumpled beneath his fingers.

"Why..."

His voice was dangerously quiet as his grip tightened until the paper tore slightly.

"Why is that crown prince coming here?"

The Imperial seal cracked beneath his palm.

Cassian’s jaw tightened.

"And why does he specifically want my wife to greet him?"

His eyes became cold.

The Crown Prince was coming to Ashcroft, and he wanted Luceille there. Cassian leaned back in his chair, his expression becoming completely unreadable.

The Crown Prince could come to Ashcroft if he wished; he could speak about politics, trade, borders, or whatever excuse the Imperial Palace had invented for sending him north, but he would not come here expecting access to Luceille.

Cassian slowly placed the ruined letter on the desk.

The wood beneath his fingertips creaked.

He had spent years building Ashcroft into a territory that even the Imperial Palace treated with caution. He had earned his reputation through blood, war, and fear. Nobles lowered their voices when his name was spoken. Enemies knew better than to test his patience.

Yet somehow, one simple sentence from the Imperial Palace had managed to irritate him more than an army standing at his borders.

His wife, they wanted his wife to stand beside him and welcome the Crown Prince.

Cassian’s fingers slowly tightened into a fist; he would allow the Crown Prince to come, he would even greet him, but if that man believed he could look at Luceille with the same intentions he once had...that would be a very different matter.

Because there was one thing the Crown Prince needed to remember.