Abyss Draconis-Chapter 708: House of Eiffel

KNOCK

KNOCK

"Who’s it?" a voice echoed from the other side of the door.

"Hello, Sir Leopold Blackwood. It is I, Anne."

"Oh, Anne? Give me a second."

What followed were the sounds of shuffling and coat ruffling before the knob finally twisted and the door opened.

Out stepped a tall, masculine Angel. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

He wore a dark vest over a sharp, equally dark shirt and straight-legged trousers, also dark in color.

Draped over his shoulders was a half-worn coat, and atop his head sat a stiff top hat.

In his gloved right hand, he held a sleek black cane.

His golden eyes swept over the two figures standing before the door.

One of them, he recognized instantly—Anne, a maid of the family.

The other was a young white-haired man, unfamiliar, bearing bizarre purple tattoos that trailed from the side of his neck down beneath the collar of his otherwise ordinary white shirt.

"Anne," he acknowledged her arrival.

"Good morning, Sir. I’ve come to inform you of the arrival of the requested Ammamoran Arch Guard. He asked to see you, sir," Anne said with her head bowed, avoiding direct eye contact with the butler.

"Oh. Thank you, Anne," Leopold replied.

"I’ll take my leave now, sir," she said, turning and walking off down the hall.

That left Leopold alone with the young man before him.

"Leopold Blackwood," the man introduced himself, tipping his hat slightly in greetings.

"Ryuk Knull from the Ammamoran Service Arch Guards. I’m here on behalf of the personal guard request made by the House of Eiffel," Ryuk replied, getting straight to the point.

He produced his quest card, given to him by Officer Rhys, which he handed to Sir Leopold.

"You’re the right one, and you’ve come to the right place," Leopold said, examining the card briefly.

"Before you meet the Princess, there will be necessary clothing adjustments and a set of rules to observe. I hope you don’t mind," he added, subtly glancing at Ryuk’s overly casual attire.

’While I did request someone younger to serve as Her Lady’s right hand, I didn’t expect them to send someone this young. Is he really an Arch Guard at such an age? He doesn’t seem to have much experience at all,’ the butler thought, studying Ryuk carefully, doubt was all that filled his mind.

"I’ve been informed about that already," Ryuk answered, sensing the unspoken concerns.

"Very well. Then please come in," Leopold said, opening the door wider.

Ryuk stepped inside, and the door shut quietly behind them.

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Elsewhere...

"The Pegasus Carriage is ready, Princess Eiffel," a maiden’s voice called softly inside a radiant golden room.

Two women could be seen within.

One, a beautiful angelic lady in her early twenties, stood respectfully at the side with her arms held neatly together.

Beside her, cross-legged on a grand golden sofa, was a strikingly pretty girl dressed in shimmering royal attire.

Princess Eiffel wore a floor-length gown spun from golden silk, embroidered with delicate threads of platinum and pearls. The bodice was sun-shaped, accentuating her slender form.

Around her waist, a wide corset—boned and reinforced beneath the silk—hugged her tightly, while golden chains draped from its edges, each link engraved with royal insignias.

Behind her, trailing across the couch, was a translucent cape, designed with frosted golden stars.

Her long gloves were crafted from pale golden mesh, and her flowing golden hair was styled into a flawless crown braid, pinned in place with a diadem of pearls and sunsilver.

Not a single part of her attire was mismatched or unrefined—everything about it was balanced and exact.

But her face was the opposite.

Her lips were curled slightly in irritation, her golden irises staring blankly out the window at the distant grasslands.

Everything today annoyed Eiffel.

She was being forced to attend an event that was not only unnecessary in her eyes but also said to be dangerous.

To add salt to injury, her favorite singer was performing today—and she would be missing it, trapped in this suffocating gown, stripped of all her communication devices in the name of tradition.

She hated every passing second.

And she already hated the thought of the so-called Arch Guard who would shadow her all day like a loyal mutt.

The idea of some old, stiff man trailing her in the name of "duty" made her stomach churn. Even though the butler had promised she would be assigned someone young...

She remained skeptical.

"Tell me, Ariande, is the Seven Royal Families Meeting really that important?" she asked.

"It is, Princess Eiffel," the maid responded softly. "It is your official introduction to the rest of the Royal bloodlines. They are your future allies, leaders you’ll work alongside to manage the Ivayne Territory under the Eiffel Royal House."

"I’ve heard that a million times from Father," she sighed tiredly.

Ariande moved to help her up, but Eiffel shook her off and rose to her feet on her own.

"Let’s leave already. Hopefully, whoever this Arch Guard is arrives late, and we get to leave without him," she muttered beneath her breath.

The two women exited the hall, approaching the golden gate at the far end of the corridor.

When they reached it, two guards pushed it open, revealing a regal outdoor scene.

There, standing on the short glassy plain, stood a large golden carriage, adorned with the royal insignia of a flying horse with six wings and a horn rising from its forehead.

The carriage was drawn by four majestic white creatures, resembling horses but far larger, each one possessing two grand wings.

They were the rare mythical pegasus, and standing beside them were three individuals.

Two of them, Eiffel recognized immediately.

One was the family’s most trusted rider, Mr Percival Doraimon, who drove her to every boring occasion she hated.

The other—none other than the ever-nagging butler, Sir Leopold Blackwood, with his sugar-coated commands she could never seem to defy.

These two men were engaged in conversation with a third figure, his back turned to her, but his hands held the pegasus who rubbed against him, amidst exciting neighing sounds.

Curious, Eiffel found herself leaning forward slightly, trying to get a glimpse of his face.

As if sensing her presence, all three turned in unison.

And in that very instant, her eyes locked with his.

For a brief moment, time seemed to hold its breath.

Her breath caught in her throat as the irritation melted from her features, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise.

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