Chapter 117 – The Runaway Princess (7)

The room was decorated with paintings. The pillars had velvet hung on them. A long table filled with food and wine. The guests have scattered around. They wore fine dresses and coats. The ladies were chattering. The gentlemen were trying to look good in front of the woman of the hour. Cyra found the celebration repulsing. If someone who knew her from Edawick could see her right now. They would be surprised at the change of personality. She didn’t have the aura of a shy town girl who worked in a bakery. She wore this regal aura now.

The hubbub of pleasantries grew repulsive. The high-class individuals attending this banquet didn’t know that the celebrated hated this party. If Abel, the pious man didn’t inform Cyra. She would have thought that they have gone crazy. According to Abel, the people of the demesne do not know that she was a runaway princess. They thought that she was just roaming around the world, furthering her knowledge.

This did not feel weird for Cyra though. She had thought that her father would certainly preserve his reputation. Without respect, he wouldn’t be able to command the whole realm with an iron yet fair hand.

The realm’s run by a Caste-System. Most of the lower class work the factories and tend to the lands. These people here belong to the highest class. They do not know the real reason why the belladonna of the Kingdom was gone for years.

To Cyra, they looked like ignorant fools. Especially when they flatter her with flower words that makes her vomit. She didn’t like pompous words. Ever since living in the Freelands she had appreciated the common tongue.

Most of the people in front of her were speaking the pompous langue of the Demesne. To her surprise, the pious man named Abel was able to interact with them. She didn’t like Abel. But he was far better than the folks that surround her.

She stood near her father. Her icy-eyes focused forward rather than meet with the father of hers.

The banquet continued for a while. Lord Glarus entertained the people who were in the room and showed his lordly aura to them. At the end of the banquet, he stood in front of his throne. He started chortling about the glory and prosperity of the demesne. The nobles in the throne room cheered, clapping their hands.

The banquet was over after the speech. The guards escorted the people out. Abel, the pious man was told to vacant the room so Lord Glarus could speak privately to his daughter.

Cyra stood still with impassive eyes. She watched her father adjust his greatcoat. He strides towards with fierce eyes resembling that of a wolf. This was it, thought Cyra. What was she going to get? Will she get slapped and scolded? She thought of many possibilities that were going to happen to her. But when her father finally acted, she was stunned. She expected her cheek to hurt. But what did she get?

She got a pat on the head. She looked up. She saw her father making a gentle expression. It was from the fierce wolfish look he always shows. This time he acted like a father who finally found her daughter.

“I am glad your home.”

This confused Cyra. Lord Glarus could see that well.

“You must be surprised.”

“I am.”

“Indeed,” he inclined his head. He folded his hands behind his back, looking at the ceiling. “I’ve grown old and soft. I would have whipped you if I was years younger.”

“What happened to you?” Cyra had to ask. The father she knew was cruel and awful He was a man who schemed and ruse. This could be one of his schemes. His way of dealing with her, but the eyes he made convinced Cyra it was not.

“Years of dwelling in the realms of politics. The enemies we had to face have become numerous. You’ve seen the city right? It is vast and prosperous. The men and women of our domain can eat three times a day. They get health care and our soldiers are taken care of when they cannot fight our battles. To do this I’ve secluded our nation against the people that may harm it. I’ve built walls to separate us from them. Yet your arrival changed that. The Templars, the Midland and its Pontiff can now discuss this alliance that they want.”

“Reject it then.”

“If it was that easy then I would have. I’ve tried to isolate their voices yet they persist as hard as ever. They are at war and they are getting desperate. And I can understand that desperation.”

Cyra raised a brow. She listened.

“Beyond the Gigantes Sea lies a large Empire. They match our technology prowess and they have studied the Progenitors as we do.”

“The Progenitors,” murmured Cyra.

“The enigmatic beings that have enlightened our people and brought forth knowledge that allowed us to be superior. We haven’t gone past the Gigantes Sea because of the tides and the dire monsters that lurk down below. Yet with flying machines and flotillas, we had made contact with this Empire. This Empire talked with us. We have fruitful relationship towards them but in the end, the lust of war took them. Now they want the whole of the Livia Continent. The Templars know this and thus they need to defeat the Bali and the Cagan.”

“Are they really that dangerous?” said Cyra.

“Yes. They command flying ships like we do. They have an arsenal of walkers that and four-legged automatons that could tear through our defenses. They are unkempt but they do the job. And I fear the day their armada comes at us.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Cyra said confused, holding her anger back. Was she taken away from Edawick just to hear this?

Lord Glarus smiled, “You are my daughter, the daughter of the only woman that I truly loved. I cannot fault her for freeing you. You were a precious card and in those years I was desperate. I could have searched for you. And I would have found you. But I let fate decided instead. I’d let you roam the land and I counted on how many years you could survive on your own. And it took years to found you and now you are a woman with a steadfast head.”

Cyra didn’t know what to say.

“My daughter,” He approached her. “There are dark times ahead. Your younger brothers are fools. And if you would find it in your heart, please help me. I am old and I worry. I’ve heard what that Templar did to take you. I am sorry, but I need your help, especially now of all time. I will need my family to help me in this endeavor”

Cyra’s head was swirling. She had expected worst but never in her dreams that her awful father would turn into someone who would ask for help. She had many things that she wanted to say. She wanted to curse him and demand to be returned back. But to her surprise, she listened to the reasoning of her father. And as he explained, her wits were at its end.