Meeting The Second Prince

The royal carriage of the Elvenhallow Kingdom rolled into the grand courtyard of the Raventhornton Palace. Its logo, a majestic phoenix soaring above a crescent moon, gleamed under the soft glow of the palace lanterns. This emblem, representing the royal family's resilience and wisdom, was unmistakable. The guards at the palace gate straightened at the sight of it, their armor clinking softly as they moved into position.

"Welcome, Your Majesties," one of the senior guards greeted with a deep bow. His voice carried both respect and admiration. "We are honored by your presence. His Majesty, King Alaric of Raventhornton, has been eagerly anticipating your arrival and has summoned you both to his study. He wishes to catch up before the ball formally begins."

King Edward and Queen Eleanor exchanged a knowing smile, their friendship with King Alaric stretching back to their youth. "Very well," King replied warmly. "Lead the way."

"We'll leave you two to catch up"

As the guards escorted the king and queen toward the palace, Isabella and Lydia descended from the carriage. The two princesses were left behind as their parents disappeared into the grandeur of the Raventhornton Palace. While the Prince's had left earlier upon stepping foot in raventhorn.

Isabella glanced at the ornate surroundings. The palace was a marvel, its towering arches and intricate carvings exuding regality. Before she could immerse herself in the beauty of the architecture, Lydia spoke up.

"Isabella," Lydia said softly, her tone laced with a familiar feigned innocence. "I think I'll wander around for a bit. The palace is so vast and beautiful; it would be a shame not to explore."

Isabella turned to her adopted sister, her crimson hair catching the light in a way that made her seem almost ethereal.

She was well aware of Lydia's true nature and scheming tendencies, from the novel. If Lydia wanted to wander off, it was likely for reasons far from innocent curiosity.

But Isabella also knew there was little use in challenging her outright.

"Do as you wish," Isabella replied coolly, her expression composed. "But don't get lost."

Lydia smiled, though there was a flicker of irritation in her eyes at Isabella's indifferent response. "Of course, dear sister. I'll be back before the ball starts."

With that, Lydia turned on her heel and hurried off, her movements betraying an urgency that only confirmed Isabella's suspicions. Isabella watched her leave, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. Lydia is always up to something. If her understanding of Lydia's manipulative nature from the novel was correct, whatever she was planning tonight would undoubtedly be significant—and dangerous.

Isabella's thoughts grew heavier as she wandered through the palace grounds, her mind replaying scenes from the novel. Lydia's schemes in the original story had been subtle yet devastating. Now, with the story's timeline altered, Isabella felt on edge, unsure of what would happen next. I need to stay vigilant, she told herself. I can't let my guard down, not even for a moment.

With Lydia gone, Isabella wandered further into the palace, her thoughts clouded with suspicion. She couldn't predict what Lydia would do, but one thing was certain: it wouldn't be harmless. Her steps carried her into a quieter section of the palace, away from the lively atmosphere of the grand hall. She barely noticed her surroundings, her mind preoccupied.

Suddenly, a distant cry for help broke through her thoughts.

"Help!! Someone please help!!"

Isabella froze. The voice was faint but filled with panic. Without hesitation, she followed the sound, her heart pounding in her chest.

The cries led her to a secluded part of the palace gardens, where she spotted a young boy trapped in a precarious situation. He was clinging desperately to a thin, crumbling ledge over a steep drop into a dry moat. His hands trembled as he struggled to hold on.

"Help me! Please!" the boy shouted again, his voice trembling with fear.

Isabella's instincts kicked in. She sprinted toward him, her gown trailing behind her. Reaching the edge, she dropped to her knees and extended her hand.

"Grab my hand!" she called out firmly. "I'll pull you up!"

The boy hesitated, his face pale with terror. "I... I can't! I'm slipping!"

"You can do this," Isabella said, her voice steady and reassuring. "Trust me!"

Summoning all her strength, she leaned further down, her fingers brushing against his. With one decisive move, she grabbed his wrist and pulled with everything she had. The boy yelped as he was lifted from the ledge, his body collapsing against hers as they both fell back onto the grass, breathing heavily.

---

"Thank you… thank you for saving me," the boy said between gasps, his voice filled with gratitude. He looked up, his wide eyes meeting Isabella's. For a moment, he seemed stunned, as if unable to process the strikingly beautiful girl who had just saved him. Her red hair glowed under the moonlight, and her warm, gentle smile made her appear almost angelic.

"You're welcome," Isabella replied softly, helping him to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

The boy shook his head, his breathing still uneven.

As she steadied him, her gaze lingered on his face. Something about him felt… familiar. A flash of recognition stirred in her memory, though she couldn't place it yet. Looking at the boy who looked about two year's older than her around age seventeen to eighteen.

She asked,

"This face…" she murmured, her brows furrowing slightly. "Have we met before?"

The boy blinked, surprised by her words. "I… I don't think so, my lady."

But Isabella wasn't so sure. There was something about his striking blue eyes and delicate features that tugged at the edges of her mind. Could he be someone from the novel's story? Or was this another twist in the fate she was trying so hard to rewrite?

Before she could piece her thoughts together, hurried footsteps approached, and a palace servant appeared, his face pale with panic. "Young Master!" the servant exclaimed, bowing deeply to Isabella. "Your Highness, are you all right?"

"Highness?" Isabella repeated, her eyes widening as realization dawned.

The servant straightened, his expression filled with relief. "Thank you for saving him, my lady. He is Prince Elias, the second prince of Raventhorn."

Isabella's heart skipped a beat. The second prince of Raventhornton? Ahaa!! Just as she thought that face felt familiar!!!