Love At First Sight

Vyan's celebratory party was in full swing. It was a delightful chaos of laughter, clinking glasses, and extravagant dance moves.

Amidst this carnival of merriment, Vyan's eagle-eyed attention snagged on something amiss.

'Why are there only two princes here today? Where is the rest of the royal family?' Vyan mentally broadcasted to Clyde, who was nonchalantly basking in the attention of a bevy of admirers across the room.

'Haven't you been in the gossip loop? Your aunt got poisoned three nights ago. Prince Ronan and Princess Katelyn are with her,' Clyde telepathically shot back.

'Oh, joy,' Vyan sighed, 'another episode of Who Wants To Murder A Monarch? Color me unsurprised.'

The imperial family was a melodrama perpetually on the brink of implosion, as everyone and their dog knew. Even Vyan's impressive desire to meddle could not compete with their already homegrown dysfunction.

Take Jade for instance—the empress-consort and mother of Izac. She was a walking, talking public service announcement for Why Jealousy is Bad. 

Jade's petty vendettas were mainly aimed at Empress Celeste—Vyan's aunt and her husband's third wife—were legendary. 

Jade's schemes ranged from mildly inconvenient to outright homicidal, all because her husband loved Celeste more. It was like a high school drama but with a higher body count, given that many unfortunate guards and maids had lost their lives in the midst of all this.

And then there was the ghost of Empress Number One. The first empress—mother to Princess Althea and Prince Easton—had tragically departed this mortal coil in an 'accident' eighteen years ago. The rumor mill pinned the blame squarely on Empress Jade. 

Family feuds were a daily occurrence among the imperials. If Vyan had a coin for every murder plot he heard about, he would have his own kingdom by now. 

And yeah, the imperial family tree and their history were as a mirror room with infinite reflections. Even Vyan needed a map, a compass, and maybe a wizard to remember it all.

'I understand the absence of others. Where is Princess Althea?' Vyan asked Clyde through their mental channel once again.

'That I don't know,' Clyde responded, clearly annoyed at Vyan for interrupting him from enjoying the perks of his dubious charm.

'Then, get to know. She is important for our plans.'

'Where do you expect me to find her in this colossal labyrinth of a palace? I don't even know what she looks like!'

'She is a princess, Clyde. You will recognize her when you see her. Now, stop flirting with the ladies and do your job as my aide.'

'You are just jealous because women are too scared to approach you. I told you to let Benedict cover up that scar on your forehead.'

'I would rather have them keep me at an arm's length than cover it up. If someone can like me with my scar, then that's that. Otherwise, I don't give a damn.'

'Well, forgive me for trying to make you popular with the ladies. By all means, please go ahead with maintaining your mean look. I guess Ashstone will just never find a Grand Duchess. Geez.'

'Forget me. Looking at the rate women are attracted to you, you will soon end up like the emperor—with three wives, haha.'

'Please, I will be a one-woman man. Once I find my dream girl, I will never even look—'

'We will see about that, Mr. Playboy. Now, get going. It's time to make yourself useful.'

'Fine!' Clyde mentally huffed as he inconspicuously slipped out of the banquet hall under the pretense of needing fresh air. 

He sighed, missing the delightful attention of the ladies, but duty called.

As he skulked through the palace corridors, Clyde couldn't help but regret the day he handed Vyan those magic books. 

Vyan discovering telepathy was like handing a toddler a megaphone. One day, out of nowhere, Vyan's voice had started echoing in Clyde's head. It had scared the living daylights out of him the first time. 

Thanks to that, here he was—the noble ladies' favorite conversationalist—reduced to an errand boy with a psychic boss. Sometimes, life was just not fair.

Clyde was trudging around the dark garden, which was romantically lit by small lamps and the moonlight, cursing his luck. He found a faint sense of presence at the other end of the garden and started following it.

Of all the people in this palace, why do I have to be the one playing hide-and-seek with a princess? he grumbled internally, stepping on a rock and almost losing his balance.

Little did he know that this troublesome, seemingly pesky task would lead him to the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on. 

The woman looked like a goddess, and Clyde felt like he had wandered into a fairytale.

Bathed under the soft glow of the moon and dressed in a resplendent pastel green gown, she was the very embodiment of regal beauty. Her long silver hair shimmered, complementing the moon in the sky. 

But it wasn't just her ethereal beauty that tugged at his heart. 

It was the fact that she was sitting on the ground, hands hovering over a red-feathered bird. Divine light emanated from her palms as Clyde watched in awe, seeing the injuries on the bird heal right before his eyes.

There was no mistaking her. Even if her stunning appearance had not given her away, her magic certainly did. 

Only one person in the imperial family could perform healing magic, and that was Princess Althea Dione Haynes.

Sensing someone's presence, Althea sharply turned her head over her shoulder, her ornaments jingling like they had their own commentary to add.

Her light green eyes locked onto Clyde's gray ones, and he knew at that moment he was a goner. After all, his heart was thumping louder than a marching band on parade day.

"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice alert.

Clyde realized he was staring like a fool and mustered a graceful bow. "Pardon me for disturbing you, Your Imperial Highness. I am His Grace, the Grand Duke's aide."

He met her gaze once again and added, "I was just taking a leisurely stroll."

"That's a lie," Althea shot back, her eyes narrowing. "Your footsteps were too purposeful as you approached me."

Clyde chuckled lightly, raising his hands in mock-surrender. "You caught me. I sensed someone was here and could not resist my curiosity to check out who might be the individual missing such a vibrant celebratory party."

Her eyebrows arched. "You sensed someone? Are you a mage?"

"Indeed, Your Imperial Highness," Clyde said, crouching beside her to examine the bird she was tending to. "This little fellow is lucky, getting the royal treatment from the First Princess of Haynes."

She sighed, a touch of sadness in her eyes. "Since I am not allowed to heal people, I make do with birds and animals."

Clyde glanced at her, intrigued. "Not allowed? By whose decree?"

Althea's expression got sadder. "I wanted to heal Empress Celeste, but Ronan and Katelyn wouldn't let me near her. They are too distrustful of me."

Clyde's brows knit in sympathy. "That's a tough spot, Your Highness."

She nodded, looking down at the bird. "It is frustrating. I have the power to help, but I am blocked at every turn."

Clyde offered a comforting smile, and she said, "I don't know why I told you this, but please, forget it."

"Don't worry, I will forget it. But if you ever need an ally in sneaking past your stubborn siblings, I am your guy. I have an impeccable record of getting into places I shouldn't."

Althea chuckled softly. "I will keep that in mind, Lord Magnus—the Sneaky Aide."

"You know my name?" Clyde was surprised. 

"Of course, it's my duty to know the name of every person invited to the soiree," she stated, as if memorizing the name and face of over hundreds of people was as easy as counting how many fingers she had.

"How come you didn't know I was a mage then?" he teased.

"It's my bad, actually. Since you were His Grace's aide, I just assumed you would be good at sword fighting or martial arts or something like that."

"Being a mage makes for a good defense, you know, Your Highness?"

She hummed and said, "Anyway, let's focus on getting this little one back on his wings."

"Understood," Clyde replied obediently, but as it became a little too quiet, his talkative mouth couldn't stop from speaking up again, "Are you not going to come join the party, Your Highness?"

"Since you are His Grace's aide, you tell me." She looked over at him with an enchanting gaze. "Will he mind if I don't?"

Vyan would have my head, that's for sure, Clyde thought with a little dread.

"I don't think so. He has already got his hands full with Prince Izac," Clyde joked, forcing himself to laugh.

Althea chuckled lightly, and Clyde could swear he felt butterflies swimming in his stomach. "That clown," she muttered, "He is going to annoy His Grace until he wants to tear out his own hair." 

As the bird regained consciousness and started flapping its wings, she stood up, dusting off the skirt of her dress in an elegant manner. 

"Well, I suppose, I am going to go and save His Grace from my annoying half-brother," she declared.

"Are you going to do that to win His Grace's favor?" Clyde asked, his tone mischievous.

"Well," her green eyes sparkled like gems as she uttered with confidence, "if I am to become the Empress of Haynes, it would be nice to have the Grand Duke's favor, don't you think?"

Clyde felt his heart race as panic set in. 

The woman I fell in love with is dangerous!