Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince-Chapter 125 — Annual Royal Banquet (1)

Lucian swung the golden carriage’s door open and extended his hand to Cynthia with a faint smile.

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his and stepped out of the carriage.

Before her, a long staircase was lined with a few soldiers guarding the entrance, while the door was decorated with beautiful flowers. Despite the darkness of the night, the flowers shone, an obvious spell having been cast on them to do so.

Lucian handed over the invitation card to the guards, who announced their arrival before opening the large door.

The crowd was too busy to pay attention to them. However, when someone caught sight of the couple, murmurs spread quickly.

Two servants stepped forward to remove the thick layers of coats from the pair.

The duchess looked more beautiful than she had at the previous ball. She wore a dark blue dress adorned with sparkling pearls around her waist and at the hem. The sleeveless gown revealed her bare, thin, pale skin. Strands of her hair curled to her waist, while glimmering emerald earrings were highlighted against the silver backdrop of her hair.

She... looks so pretty.

That was the only thought that crossed everyone’s mind.

Beside her, Lucian wore a dark blue suit with a white shirt underneath. His hair was combed back, though a few strands hung on his forehead. The crest of the Erion Duchy was carefully pinned to the left side of his suit.

Young ladies couldn’t resist the temptation to stare at the young duke and admire him. He looked flawless if his origins were ignored.

"Your Highness, let’s greet the king first," the grand duke softly whispered, holding her hand gently.

Cynthia, still unused to his gentle tone and his initiative to make physical contact, faintly smiled. She had to maintain a perfect image until her plan was executed.

The hall shone due to the uncountable amount of lights hung on the ceiling. The ballroom was filled with soft music, tables draped with white clothes filled with numerous dishes, desserts and drinks, a place reserved for couples to dance and finally, a few closed doors leaning toward different terraces.

As the couple grew closer to the throne, Lucian’s grip tightened.

Lilith’s warning echoed through his mind.

"He is planning to kill you."

The couple kept their heads slightly down as a sign of respect although they both felt a turmoil of anger for the man sitting on his throne.

"You may rise," he said once they had completed their formal greeting.

"It is so good to see you here," Valerian chuckled, his disgust masked with a smile. He hated this couple of youngsters who had been ruining his plans constantly. They ended the war, prevented another war and worst— they were alive!

Even Gionhart can’t get rid of this pest when he lives so close to him...

Valerian clenched his fist.

"Enjoy the banquet," he finally said, having not heard any of the words Cynthia and Lucian said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. However, where is Her Majesty?" Cynthia demanded, her voice sharp as she glanced around.

"Uhm..." Valerian hesitated before flashing a small grin at her. "She is... unwell. You know... The princess’s passing has been hard on us, her family."

The young man clenched his fist, knowing very well what the king meant— Lucian wasn’t a part of the family hence, Princess Arisia’s passing mustn’t have been hard on him.

Cynthia nodded, glancing at Lucian whose expression had dropped.

"Alright," she bowed, grabbing Lucian’s hand and pulling him away.

Disoriented, he gasped, trailing after her in confusion.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice uneven.

Once they reached the terrace, Cynthia turned abruptly to face him, her frown deepening.

"Shouldn’t you be telling me that? Why aren’t you happy when your father is right there in front of you? You should be smiling," she said, crossing her arms, frustration lacing her tone.

Her goal tonight was to kill the king. Yet, inexplicably, she wanted Lucian to have a proper conversation with him first. She didn’t know why that mattered, but it did.

"The king..." Lucian exhaled heavily, leaning his back against the wall. "He made it clear—I’m not part of the family."

Cynthia stepped back, her eyes widening in shock.

"What... what do you mean?" she stammered, her voice unsteady.

Lucian let out a hollow laugh, covering his mouth as if embarrassed. "The only one who ever treated me like family was Princess Arisia. No one else. No other member of the royal family has ever acknowledged me as one of them." His laugh grew bitter, a sharp contrast to the aching vulnerability in his eyes.

Cynthia’s jaw clenched, a surge of anger rising within her—raw and inexplicable.

She didn’t know who it was directed at, but the truth burned. As she sifted through memories of Lucian with the king, a pattern emerged.

His anxious glances, his tense posture, his constant fear of making even the smallest mistake. It all hinted at something deeper—something she didn’t yet understand.

"Doesn’t he... love you?" she asked hesitantly, needing to confirm the thought gnawing at the back of her mind.

"Love?" Lucian repeated with a dry chuckle. "Only my mother ever told me she loved me for who I am. Oh, and... you." He paused, his hand lifting to rub at his left eye. Then, hesitating, he covered it with his palm. "May I... show you something?"

Cynthia blinked, her curiosity piqued. Slowly, she gave him a faint nod, waiting for him to reveal whatever he was hiding.

Although nervous, Lucian hesitated to move his hand away from his left eye. His fingers trembled slightly against his face.

For a moment, it seemed like he might back out, but then he slowly lowered his hand, revealing his left eye.

The golden iris, one he had long hidden from the world, shimmered faintly in the light. For so long, it had marked him as a monster in their eyes. But now, he couldn’t bring himself to hide it from her—not anymore. Not when he had decided to fully embrace their marriage.

His mother had once told him that trust was the cornerstone of any relationship, especially those one held dear. And as the days passed, he realized... he had begun to cherish her. Truly.

Cynthia’s breath caught in her throat, but no sound came out.

His golden eye glimmered faintly in the moonlight, stark against the shadows. It was unlike anything she had seen—beautiful yet haunting.

"This..." His voice faltered, barely above a whisper. "This is the reason they call me a monster. The reason I was never truly accepted. Not even by the man who gave me life."

Cynthia’s gaze softened as she studied his face. There was no trace of the fearsome image he described. All she saw was a man burdened by the weight of others’ cruelty.

"They’re fools," she spoke softly, her voice cutting through the music in the background.

Lucian blinked, startled by her response.

"W-What?"

"They’re fools," she repeated, stepping closer to him. "That eye doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you..." She paused, unable to continue. She had softened towards him, and she couldn’t believe herself.

Even if he isn’t loved by the king, even if he went through so much hardship... Did he have the right to treat me like that in my past life? Did I deserve to suffer so much when I only wanted love, just as much he craved it?

The thoughts clouded Cynthia’s mind, her jaw clenched.

On the other hand, her words struck something deep within Lucian, and for a moment, he couldn’t look away from her.

The sincerity in her expression, the fire in her voice—it was as if she were determined to erase every insult and rejection he’d ever faced. His heart raced, an unknown sensation tingling in his chest.

Without a word, he reached for her hand, gently clasping it in his. A soft smile touched his lips, as though the weight of his anguish was beginning to lift.

He swallowed hard, his jaw trembling slightly. For so long, he had carried his burdens in silence, convinced no one would ever look at him without judgment. Yet now, she stood before him—steadfast, unflinching, and meeting his gaze without hesitation.

Is this what Mother meant when she said I would also find someone who would accept me for me?

He wondered, a lingering joyful feeling arising within him.

"Cynthia..." he murmured, his voice cracking as if he would cry any moment.

Before he could say more, a distant sound from the palace broke the moment—a servant’s hurried footsteps, echoing faintly down the hall.

The reality of their situation crept back in, reminding Cynthia of the night’s precarious plans.

She straightened, her mask of composure slipping back into place.

"We’ll finish this later," she said, her tone sharp but not unkind. "For now, I would like to be alone on the terrace."

Lucian nodded, though his heart still raced from her words. As she turned to leave, he glanced down at his hands, flexing them, feeling the absence of her warmth on his skin.

Perhaps, for the first time in a long time, he felt just a little less alone.

"I... love her," he mumbled softly, his cheeks slowly turning red.

[I knew I should have killed her...] Keal grumbled, disappointed to see the young man falling in love with the woman he wanted to kill so badly before.

The most uptodate nove𝙡s are published on fr(e)𝒆webnov(e)l.com