After walking for a while, talking about the most random things, Alexander finally stopped in front of a simple yet intricate door.

"Here we are."

He pulled out a key and slid it into the keyhole, unlocking the door before opening it for Elion.

"I think everything you need is in there," he said, stepping aside. "There’s a bathroom as well, if you want to freshen up."

Elion nodded.

"If you need food or anything to drink, there’s a small enchanted bell on your nightstand," Alexander continued. "Just ring it, and a servant will come to you shortly."

Then he added lightly,

"Don’t overdo it with the alcohol though."

Elion let out a small chortle.

"Who do you think I am?"

Alexander tilted his head innocently.

"A powerful young hero who happens to be a drunk bastard?" he said matter-of-factly.

Thwack!

Elion brought his hand down in a sharp chop against the prince’s head. Alexander dropped into a crouch instantly, clutching his head painfully.

"Ahh, what was that for!"

Elion stepped inside and slammed the door shut in his face without answering him, leaving a very aggrieved Prince Alexander in the hallway.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch..." Alexander groaned, rubbing his head.

The door creaked open slightly. Alexander flinched immediately, instinctively raising his arms as if expecting another strike.

Elion’s face appeared in the gap.

"First thing tomorrow morning." His tone was rather calm, "We start your training."

Bang!

The door shut again. Alexander stood there for a second. He licked his tongue as he slowly got back to his feet, still rubbing his head.

"I’m a prince, goddamnit..." he muttered under his breath. "Why am I letting this guy bully me...?"

"You say something?"

Elion’s calm voice came from the other side of the door.

Alexander yelped, "N-Nothing!" He immediately walked away as fast as his pair of feet allowed him, without outright running.

The guest room was just as Elion had expected.

Spacious, refined, and carrying a soft aromatic scent of lavender that lingered gently in the air. A large open balcony stretched out from one side of the room, the curtains beside it swaying lightly with the night breeze.

On the other end, a door, most likely leading to the bathroom, stood neatly fitted into the wall.

Everything in the room looked like it cost an arm and a leg. Everywhere he looked, his eyes were met with polished surfaces and fine fabrics adorned by intricate details. He didn’t spend too much time admiring it all.

Instead, he made his way to the bathroom and drew himself a bath.

The hot water soothed his body, easing away the tension built up from the long day. He stayed there for a while before stepping out, drying himself off, and heading back into the room.

He slipped into bed, closed his eyes, and tried to sleep. But no matter how long he lay there, he couldn’t fall asleep. His mind kept wandering.

And his body felt strangely invigorated, despite the exhausting ordeal with the nobles earlier. Elion let out a quiet sigh.

’It’s getting harder and harder to fall asleep every day...’

Eventually, he gave up on sleeping and got out of bed, stepping onto the balcony, leaning lightly against the railing as the cool mountain wind brushed against his face.

The night was calm, and the city below was quieter now, though still alive in its own distant way. He stood there for a while.

He didn’t know how long until his peace was interrupted by the soft sound of a knock on his door.

Elion’s brows furrowed slightly.

"...Hmm."

’Who could it be at this hour?’

He walked to the door and opened it promptly. His brows rose slightly when he saw a familiar blonde-haired woman standing there, dressed in a loose white nightgown, glancing nervously up and down the corridor as if she expected someone to appear at any moment.

"Hello, princess," Elion said, a light smile forming on his lips.

"Uhm... hello..."

She turned toward him, though her eyes didn’t quite meet his. Her gaze lingered somewhere around the doorframe, as if the wood grain had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Can I come in?" she asked quickly.

Her fingers fidgeted restlessly, betraying her discomfort. It was obvious she didn’t want to linger outside any longer than necessary. Just in case someone happened to walk by and spot her standing at a man’s door this late at night. Once that happened, unsavoury rumours about her would spread quickly.

"Sure."

Elion didn’t make her wait. He stepped aside and opened the door wider. She slipped in almost immediately, her movements quick and awkward, like she was trying to escape from some invisible pursuer.

Elion lingered for just a moment, glancing down both ends of the corridor. Then he closed the door softly behind him.

He noticed that Isla was standing there, quietly looking around the mostly empty room, her gaze drifting from one corner to another as if she didn’t quite know what to do with herself.

"You can sit," Elion said, gesturing lightly toward the bed.

She nodded quickly and moved over, sitting down with a careful, almost rigid posture, while he remained standing, leaning slightly against the wall.

He didn’t know her purpose for this late-night visit. But judging by her conservative nightgown, he doubted it had anything to do with steamy nighttime activities, and she just didn’t strike him as a loose woman.

Unless she initiated something herself, he had no intention of making a move. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer.

She had to be older than Alexander by at least a decade, and yet her aura felt much weaker. He focused slightly, confirming what his naked eye already told him

Only a novice mage.

That came as a surprise to him.

’I guess having a saint-class mage father and talented kin doesn’t automatically make you talented as well...’

Then again, he recalled what Melroy had said about how she spent all her time crafting. Which meant she probably hadn’t invested much effort into developing her mana core as a mage.

That made her current low level interesting at best. If she had made it this far without putting in any effort at all, then her current level was impressive.

Most people poured countless resources into their mana cultivation, only to remain stuck at the apprentice stage for years until they eventually met their end. And yet she had seemingly reached the novice level almost passively.

That alone was already enough for him to place her talent as a mage above average. His eyes narrowed slightly as he probed for her status.

He felt genuine surprise when he looked at the tab that showed a secondary profession.

’She’s a grade 3 crafter...!?’

That meant she could craft Epic-grade weapons and items. That was absurd, simply absurd for someone her age!

Even with his limited knowledge of crafters, Elion understood one thing clearly: That level of proficiency wasn’t common. Not even close.

It was extremely rare. After all, it was well known that this path was exponentially more difficult than advancing in the path of a mage!

’...No wonder.’

He finally understood why the nobility of Haven would be so eager to pull someone like her to their side, and also why Melroy had dismissed them so harshly.

She wasn’t just a princess; she was also a valuable asset. Marrying her into a noble house wouldn’t just tie them to the royal family; it would grant them access to a top-tier crafter, granting them large amounts of wealth, influence, and status within the court.

Elion exhaled quietly. It confused him, though.

’Aren’t these people supposed to be busy with the war...?’

He thought about it quietly.

Then again, that might have been one of the reasons they hadn’t reacted so strongly to the king’s whims since they had bigger things to worry about.

His gaze shifted back to Isla.

It didn’t take long for him to realise that she wasn’t going to speak unless he said something first.

"Why the late visit, princess?" he asked. "Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?"

A thought crossed his mind.

’Did the king put her up to this...?’

But he dismissed it almost immediately. That would contradict everything Melroy had said earlier, so she had to have come here of her own accord.

And sure enough, his thoughts were confirmed not long after.

"Uhm... I wanted to apologise," she said quickly, confirming his thoughts. "For missing your welcome celebration earlier today. I got a little carried away in my workshop with uhm..."

She trailed off, but she didn’t need to finish for him to understand what she was trying to say.

"Oh..."

He got the feeling that this was a habit of hers.

"It’s okay," He assured her, "We are all like that when it comes to something that we love, but that can’t be all right?"

He didn’t mean to be frank, but he was just having a hard time believing that was the only reason she was here.

She waved her hands in a flustered frenzy.

"I’m sorry! I should have waited until tomorrow, shouldn’t I?"

She looked up at him guiltily, just in time to see Elion nodding. He had done so instinctively. Her face turned bright red.

"I’m sorry!" she squealed. "I—I guess I should leave..."

She had already walked past him when Elion caught her wrist, making her freeze in her steps instantly, startled.

"Wait... no," Elion said calmly, offering a small smile. "I didn’t mean it to come off that way."

This princess was just too endearing.

"Don’t be in such a rush to go," he added. "Since you’re already here... how about we talk for a bit?"