Arrival of His Imperial Highness

Every year, the Imperial family of Celestia performed an inspection of their territories, an event marked by the arrival of envoys or nobles with significant political power. This time, however, was markedly different. The Royal Family of Arcadia was notified of the impending inspection, expecting a Duke to grace their land. Yet, on the day of the supposed arrival, no one came.

Days passed in anticipation. The soldiers were vigilant, scanning the gates and distant lands for any sign of an approaching carriage bearing the imperial insignia, but none appeared. The anxiety grew, whispering fears that perhaps Arcadia had somehow offended the Empire of Celestia.

Among the nobles chosen to greet the imperial envoy was Octavia, a recent graduate who excelled in business management. Despite her youth, she earned her place amidst such accomplished individuals, part of a group known as the "Young Talents." This group consisted of promising young people alongside officials and nobles, gathered to showcase their abilities in hopes of securing favor or sponsorship from the visiting dignitaries.

It was now the fourth day of waiting at the Royal Palace for the arrival of the imperial envoy. Octavia, usually punctual, found herself running late. Very late. Anxiety gnawed at her as she urged the coachman to increase their pace.

"Coachman, can't we go a little faster? I'm so late," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. The coachman, understanding the urgency, decided to take a shortcut through a less traveled part of the capital, a route that cut through the poorest commoner area.

The capital of Arcadia was meticulously structured, with distinct divisions based on social status. Imagine a circle: the upper part housed the castle, the middle section began with the noble quarters and ended with commoners. The left side was designated for noble residences, the right side for the poorest commoners, and the center was the bustling market area.

Typically, the journey from an estate to the palace would traverse from the estate to the market, then through the commoner area, the noble area, and finally to the palace. However, nobles often avoided such routes, preferring to circumvent areas they deemed beneath them, resulting in longer travel times.

The air was quiet and eerie as Octavia rode through the deserted streets. An uneasy feeling crept over her, prompting her to close the windows and lock the door of her carriage. She hoped to make it to the palace without incident, but fate had other plans. Suddenly, her carriage was surrounded by a mob of rebels. They despised the nobles and their perceived entitlement, masked in hoods and scarves, brandishing weapons like knives, axes, and cutlasses.

The coachman had already fallen, his lifeless body slumped over the reins. The shouts and violent banging from the mob outside filled the air, each blow tightening a noose of fear around Octavia's heart. She felt her heart plummet to her stomach, a sinking sensation that seemed to paralyze her. Her heart raced uncontrollably, hammering in her chest as a member of the mob hurled an axe at the carriage. The wood splintered and broke, exposing her to the attackers.

Seeing the weapon break through, Octavia's body quivered uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face. The thought of dying here, in such a brutal manner, was too much to bear. Regret flooded her mind. If only she had been more patient. Her impatience had cost her everything in her past life, and now it seemed history was repeating itself.

Overwhelmed by shock, Octavia's vision blurred, and she eventually passed out, her body succumbing to the stress and fear.

When she awoke, the ceiling above her was unfamiliar, adorned with a gold and ruby chandelier. The bed beneath her was far too soft, and the silk curtains surrounding it added to the sense of opulence. The entire room was extravagantly decorated, a stark contrast to her own more modest quarters.

"You are awake. That's good," a voice commented.

Octavia turned her head to see a young man, perhaps a few years older than her, dressed in regal attire. His clothes were unlike the noble or royal styles she was accustomed to in Arcadia.

"Thank you very much for helping me. I'm so grateful," Octavia managed to say, attempting to sit up in the bed.

As she looked around the room, taking in the lavish surroundings, a thought crossed her mind: 'We might be in the palace.'

The young man seemed to read her thoughts. "We are in the palace," he reassured her, noticing her wide-eyed curiosity.

Before Octavia could process this information fully, a voice announced the arrival of King Fabian.

"Your Imperial Highness," King Fabian greeted as he entered the room.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," the young man responded with a respectful bow.

Octavia's confusion deepened. The young man turned and smiled at her, a reassuring yet enigmatic expression.

' The man was no noble from Arcadia and with the way the King addresss him with such respect and called him Imperial Highness could mean that the Duke we stood and waited for for day was no Duke but his imperial Highness himself. There has been no such thing, the Empire's royalty actually visiting the kingdom's under then one by one. If that is so then I have committed a grave mistake by speaking to someone so casual. I have committed a grave sin. I could be accused of treason against the Empire not even my kingdom I am doomed. Of all the incidents to happen to me', she thought deeply. Her face filled with shock as she looked at his Majesty. She couldn't even meet his eyes and vegan to squeeze the sheets as she felt his continued gaze on her. She felt it was taunting when it wasn't.

' What have I done? ', she screamed inwardly.

' What have I done? '

' What have I done? '

She kept repeating those words till her thoughts became nummbles and he could here them. Seeing how worried she became and how tense she looked he couldn't help but laughter at her character.