Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 306: Child’s Play

Lara met her gaze without flinching, the weight of Amielle’s scrutiny like a blade pressed to her throat—but she refused to be cowed. The chandelier light caught the glint of defiance in her eyes, turning them into twin embers.

"I appreciate your concern, Lady Amielle. Truly. But I find that those who stand firm in their honor need not fear misplaced rumors or glances. Let those who spread them beware instead."

For a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. The air between them shimmered, charged with unspoken challenge, like the tense stillness before a lightning strike. Around them, the revelry of the hall carried on, a blur of laughter, clinking goblets, and whispered intrigues—blind to the silent duel playing out in its midst.

Then Amielle’s lips curled into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and she lost a let out a hollow laugh that echoed with menace. With a graceful sweep of her silken skirts, she stepped back, her poise as dangerous as a drawn dagger.

"Such spirit. No wonder the princes are intrigued. But remember, Lara—court is a game of wolves, not maidens. And wolves are always hungry."

With that, she glided away toward a circle of noblewomen, leaving behind only the ghost of her words and the weight of her warning.

Lara stood rooted, drawing a steadying breath. The pulse of the hall returned to her ears—the music, the laughter, the lies. She lifted her chin, resolve hardening like steel beneath her skin. The game has begun, she thought. But I am no pawn. Let them watch. Let them scheme. I will not be so easily outplayed. freёnovelkiss.com

From across the hall, she sensed Alaric’s eyes on her again, watchful, protective, and something more. And somewhere outside the garden, Reuben’s voice rang out in easy laughter, masking the ambitions that churned beneath his charm.

Amielle’s voice, low and intimate, returned to her memory like a serpent’s hiss: "Do be careful, dear Lara. The favor of one prince may come at the cost of another’s trust. Or worse—his regard. It would be such a pity to see a promising young lady lose her place at court over... misunderstandings."

The sun dipped low in the western sky, gilding the castle in crimson light as the children’s laughter rang out, calling the nobles from their cloistered schemes. The training ground came alive with innocent joy. Linnea, inspired by Lara’s ideas, led the little ones through their games—first musical chairs, which dissolved into chaos when a scuffle broke out, then charades, where boys and girls pitted wits and gestures against each other.

At first, the adults were consumed by business and courtly flirtations, but soon, the bright peals of laughter—pure and unguarded—drew them out like moths to flame. They spilled from the castle, faces softened by the sight of children pantomiming wildly while their peers shouted guesses, the weight of politics forgotten for a fleeting moment.

The girls triumphed at charades, rewarded with chocolates bestowed by Lara, while the boys, undeterred, savored their lollipops. A final contest followed—a spirited mini-golf game where each team battled to drive their ball closest to the marked flag. This time, the boys claimed victory, their cheers ringing against the stone walls in the afternoon glow.

As the day waned, the children feasted in the garden, their delighted chatter a stark contrast to the subtle conversations of their elders. Lara remained with Linnea, watching over them, while Duchess Eloisa returned to the banquet hall to accompany her husband as they chatted among their guests.

The sun sank lower. The children were sent home, but the men lingered, drawn by the rare chance to curry favor with Prince Dakota—a man known for his seclusion, now hosting a banquet at last.

New guests arrived in a flurry of silks and spurs: Princess Ceres, Mira, Prince Alderan, and his sister, their presence adding new layers to the evening’s intrigue.

It was said that the wines produced in the Arches Vineyard were the best in Northem. Prince Dakota and his late wife were wine connoisseurs, as were his son and daughter-in-law. Unfortunately, his son and daughter-in-law died in an accident when Connor was still very young, so Dakota was left with only one legal heir. He remarried, but none of his sons, including Connor, were interested in wineries.

When his vintage wines were introduced during the dinner, Lara had shown great interest. Prince Dakota was proud of his wines and to find someone so invested he was happy to show the cellar to her.

Lara looked around for Alaric to ask him to accompany them, but did not find him. Even Aramis and Agilus were missing. She frowned but did not think much about it.

She accompanied Prince Dakota to the basement of the Castle, where the cellars were. Dakota’s butler assisted him on the side while a few knights followed behind.

Lara’s breath hitched when she saw row upon row of bottled wines stacked over each other on several shelves that reached up to the ceiling.

Prince Dakota passed two bottles in her hands.

"This one is for you. It is not too strong. This is my way of thanking you for saving my great-grandson." He said with a gentle smile as he reminisced how his wife concocted the wine. "And this one is for your father and brothers."

Lara bowed low, accepting his gift with genuine respect.

"I hope I may visit your vineyard one day, Your Grace," she said.

"Sure, I can arrange it for you. You can come with Sandoz. I also want to show it to him and see whether he will be interested or not."

After showing Lara the cellar, Prince Dakota was tired. Lara and the butler sent him back to his quarters.

On her way to the banquet hall, she sensed something was wrong. Did she make a wrong turn?

She was focused on the war stories Prince Dakota shared with her; she did not pay attention. The butler and the knights who accompanied her stayed with the grand duke, so she was left on her own to navigate the winding corridors of the castle.

Thankfully, she came across a castle servant who volunteered to lead her back to the banquet hall.

"Why are we going up these stairs?" she asked, suspicion sharpening her voice.

"A shortcut, my lady. After climbing this flight of stairs, on the second floor at the end of the corridor, a staircase leads directly to the banquet hall."

She recalled the grand stairwell near the hall’s right wing and nodded, albeit warily. The servant left her at an ornate door, promising the stairs beyond.

The servant left her in front of an ornate door. She said it will open up to the spiral stairs leading to the banquet hall.

But when Lara pushed it open, the world tilted.

A pair of hands—strong, unyielding—seized her, yanking her into the dark.

And the door slammed shut behind her.