Races: Online

The Princess was found. A lost young Noble was restored to glory. A man had to start from scratch.

Everything had gone so wrong and perfect at the same time.

A Cook, no, a Noble now, tried to fix his collar and hoped it didn't choke him too much. It was terribly itchy for the young gentleman, and having to go around the House of Crowel to attend and meet with tutors and learn of his duties was draining.

Even more draining than learning spell-casting.

Not much time had passed since he arrived here, and he was already being caught up in all the lessons that a young boy from the age of five or six had to learn slowly as they grew up—they were trying to etch it into his mind in such a short time.

He was supposed to have some kind of debut and needed to be prepared for it.

The young man stared at himself in the mirror, his hair brushed and slicked back with weird ointments and gels that he didn't know men used to keep their hair appearances dashing. They even used creams and other stuff on his face to keep it supple.

"Did any of this really matter?" he growled and tried to stop himself from scratching his hair and ruining all the painstaking arrangement he had to do.

He even had to rein back his annoyances now.

Because that was what was expected from him—to be like a presumptuous guy like that Sir Leon.

Timothy took one last look at the mirror to stare at the memento that hung across his neck, its strings delicately hidden underneath the collar and even the main design only simple in appearance. He gripped it tightly and sigh. "Would this have been something you wanted for me to get and experience?"

An answer would never be received.

He could only imagine how his mother would have thought of him at this moment. Proud? Would she grasp his cheek and tell him that he looked handsome, and all grown up? Would she say that she was glad that he managed to reunite with his other family?

By all accounts, a family reunion should have been touching and met with tears as a father reunited with his long-lost son. At least that was what had crossed his mind when a man who looked somewhat like himself squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him. "Welcome to Crowel House, Thomas, was it?"

"It's Timothy, Lord Crowel," he said with an awkward bow.

A small laugh escaped his throat. "You look like a Thomas, but very well then, Timothy. It is good to see you have returned, there is much to discuss."

His older sister, half-sister, was only watching from afar by that time. It had been brief. There were no words much exchanged except for the acknowledgement that indeed he was the son.

The way that Lady Andromeda Crowel stayed in the corner of the room was a bit telling.

Was this really the eagerness that they were speaking of? A squeeze on the shoulder and a smile on his face was enough to speak of a fondness that the man held for his long-lost son.

Timothy had once experienced getting tackled into the mud by the Lumberman Jack when the guy had been happy and even had his back slapped by Old Man Joe that he dreaded seeing the old coot. Tom and the other kids would pester him and clamber up his arms and use him as swings.

Definitions of things were really up to one's interpretation.

If this was the affection that his half-sister was speaking up, then he almost felt bad for her. Was there anything he could do for her? Maybe it was time for him to stop thinking about what he

—-

A Princess skulked around the castle floors, distressed but never so much as saying another word. She had almost expected that those Races from other kingdoms would at least capture her and then take her far away, contrary to such expectations—she was returned.

They were thanked and even given a title—friend of the King for helping them retrieve her.

A ceremony had been done in their ho

How was that even supposed to help them? Much better that they offered her as a kidnapped Princess to be freed and ransomed, then at least it would have caused more anguish for the man she had known as her father, who also enjoyed keeping their wealth secured.

How many gold coins was she worth to him? If he had to give up the vast armory that he held to have her returned to him safely… would she accept it?

What was infuriating for her, however, was the proposal of marriage given to the Shadow Elf! Thankfully, the Assassin had one look at her and immediately shook his head. Maybe some other Princess would have found offense at the rejection, but all she felt was relief.

"As if that was a better option than the obnoxious High Elf Prince."

She once had to engage in magical mirror conversations with him—the distance too far and dangerous for the 'young' Prince to visit and make his appearance, but soon they promised. Courting a younger woman like her made her cringe.

But it was a powerful Alliance that would help the conquesting King to expand beyond their side of the continent. No doubt the King of the High Elves thought the same. So it was quite strange and almost bothering that her father nearly dropped it all for the Shadow Elf.

Did it mean that her father knew that those three had a higher standing than a Prince?

She did not know; she was uninterested in learning of it. The memory of them killing her people—even though they tried to kill her—made her blood run cold, even until now.

A certain ruthlessness… no, it wasn't ruthless—they just didn't care about them. It was as if they were dealing with motes and nuisances. It felt like everyone else besides them were mere ants.

The Princess was glad they only requested the title of 'Friend to the King' and went on their merry way before the King could offer them to stay as guests. She had only seen her father be like that, only to people he deemed to be of an equal or higher standing between them.

Or at least useful enough for them to connect to.

However, what Iolanthe wanted to do was get away from her room now. It was not right to lock her up in an entire wing of the Castle—even if it was a far larger space than what she experienced in Timothy's dorm room; she felt more trapped here than there.

She couldn't help but wonder how he was… which was only a mild inconvenience for her. It was probably because he was the only one she could tell treated her as another person, and not simply out of her rank.

The surrounding place got even stuffier, and she left her room and headed to the balcony. It was so terribly high and loft to be perched up here, and yet she was granted the sight of flowering trees, each one about to blossom once spring resumes.

So far out of reach.

Who could tell if she was even here by the time that spring returns to their land? Frustrated, the Princess ran her fingers through the balustrade of the balcony. Each pillar of stone felt solid and strong in her hand.

Not to mention that the railing was made of the same material, thick enough for one to climb up and titter across them—if the drop did not scare her. Similar to the Kraelonia Academy, the Castle was no doubt enchanted as well if she could recall.

Iolanthe had nearly forgotten about it, unimportant to her once day-to-day living.

But now...

"Princess Iolanthe." A young man stepped into her quarters, Liam the Bodyguard coming across a sight that had his heart leaping out of his chest. "Princess—step away from the ledge, what are you doing?"

She gave him a smile, a genuine one. "Freeing myself from the entrapment my father calls protecting me." Her heels edged slightly, and she felt the thin air behind her. Her memory of the Castle's enchantments weren't the best as a slightly neglectful child, while she knew the hidden escape routes, other things… she had already forgotten.

"Please don't jump—"

But it was too late. She let gravity do its trick.

—-

There was something that Han almost forgot. A young man who had been so busy trying to do it all, achieve more, learn more and be something more—he forgot about it until he actually saw what had been missing all this time.

When Han stepped into the classroom for Magical Theory and parted with the rest, awkwardly walking with Penelope, Elliot and Russel to their class, it was there that he saw her.

Alone, as always.

Ellynn always kept back away from their other classmates, ostracized and lost a friend for the past two weeks. Was he the only person who called her a friend? A guilt sank within him as he reached the end of the classroom and waved a hand. "Hey, good morning, Ellynn."

She briefly glanced over at him. A look of surprise flickered across her face, before it schooled down to a neutral expression. "Han."

Somehow this nonchalant reply didn't seem to fit them.

It was as if he had to explain—'hey, your father and I spent the rest of two weeks growing flowers and spending some time at the beach. Sorry I was practically ignoring you for the last two weeks now. Are we cool again?'

While Sir Leon and the others had their circle of friends, even Calum was in this circle… she had none. Did the others really not invite or was it his fault because he had grown distant?

Han Jing internally gulped at the lack of answer and tried again. "Hey, uh, since Timothy is gone—want to sit beside me?"

"...why?"

It was a yes or no question. Why did she have to make it so hard and look at him like he asked her to jump off a cliff?

And yet he had one ready upon request. He offered a grin, "Obviously to copy from your notes."

"Oh."

This wasn't the response he had been hoping for.

—-—-

Author's Note: Awkward moments, both big, great and small. Well, not necessarily awkward for Timothy and Iola, just Han. However, it felt right to include them now than later and see how they're doing. While the initial chapters of the book had been really slow-paced, a drag for some, it feels to me now that mini-time skips are to be in order every now and then. Thanks for reading!