Chapter 27: Benevolent Bindings?

Chapter 27: Benevolent Bindings? The moment Lia returned to her place beside Henndar and Kethra, the grand hall came alive with movement. Servants bustled forward, announcing the start of the gift-giving ceremony. One by one, nobles, dignitaries, and visitors stepped forward, their offerings reflecting their status and aspirations. The first to present a gift was a venerable elder, his long robes embroidered with shimmering talismans. He held out a lacquered box containing a jade charm etched with intricate runes. "This is the Jade of Repose," he intoned solemnly. "It will shield the young princess from restless dreams and guide her spirit through the early stages of cultivation." The crowd murmured in approval as Lia accepted the charm with a polite nod and a soft "thank you." Next came a merchant from a faraway land, bearing a bundle of fine silks dyed in rare colors and threaded with gold. "A humble token for the princess, who shines brighter than the stars," he said with a bow. Lia smiled, running her fingers over the fabric. It was luxurious, but it felt warm, almost comforting—something she could wear during her quieter moments. As the procession continued, the gifts grew more extravagant. A general gifted her a dagger forged from star metal said to be indestructible. A foreign alchemist presented her with a set of pills that could enhance her cultivation when the time came. Another noble offered an intricately carved talisman that shimmered with a faint inner light, a protective artifact to ward off ill intentions. And then, among the cascade of opulent treasures, came a smaller, unassuming figure—a bard, clad in simple yet elegant attire. He carried a wooden case, and when he opened it, the hall fell silent. Inside lay a small lute, its craftsmanship, unlike anything Lia had ever seen. Its silvery body seemed to glow softly in the ambient light, and the strings, though delicate, emanated an almost palpable aura of serenity. "This," the bard said with a bow, "is the Harmony Lute, an instrument of peace and reflection. It carries melodies that soothe the weary soul and inspire clarity in times of strife. I believe it will serve the princess well in her journey." Lia’s eyes widened as her fingers brushed the strings, eliciting a faint, melodious hum. She felt a strange connection to the instrument as if it whispered secrets only she could understand. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, but her smile was radiant. As the ceremony continued, the next notable offering came from the Bone Kingdom. A tall, stoic soldier stepped forward, his armor adorned with the sigil of his land. Without preamble, he produced a small, unassuming talisman. Without any flourish, he presented a small, intricately carved talisman directly to Lia. Leaning in so that only she could hear, he murmured, "This talisman is designed to reconstruct the structure of one’s bones—altering shape and size when anonymity is required." Lia stared at it, a strange unease settling over her. Why would she ever need to hide her appearance among people? Though his words were directed at her alone, the more powerful cultivators in the room had no trouble hearing. The moment the soldier spoke, a ripple of understanding spread through them. Some exchanged wary glances, while others remained expressionless, absorbing the implications of such a gift. For a moment, it seemed like the soldier would say more, but he merely inclined his head and stepped back, leaving Lia to wonder at the true purpose behind the gift. Then came the delegation from the Myriad Depths Kingdom. Unlike the Bone Kingdom’s emissary, they carried themselves with a different kind of confidence—graceful, fluid, yet effortlessly captivating. They were strikingly beautiful, their presence alone enough to stir whispers among the onlookers. From the moment they arrived, many had been watching them—some admiring, others scheming. A handful of noble sons had even been discreetly glancing their way throughout the ceremony, pondering how they might find an excuse to speak with them, or perhaps even court them. One particularly ambitious young man attempted to make an impression by casually stepping forward, adjusting his embroidered sleeves and flashing a practiced, charming smile. "Perhaps I should offer a personal tour of the capital after the ceremony," he murmured to his companions, his voice just loud enough for the women to hear. His friends, emboldened by his bravado, chimed in with equally exaggerated gestures—one adjusting his collar, another stretching as if to emphasize his physique. Their antics might have gone unnoticed had one of the older nobles not given a sharp cough, shaking his head in dismay. "Fools," the elder muttered under his breath. "They’re the Myriad Depths Kingdom’s finest. Do you think such women would be impressed by your preening?" The would-be suitors immediately straightened, feigning indifference, though the faint flush on their faces betrayed them. Despite the admiration directed at them, as the Myriad Depths envoys approached Lia, a new realization settled over the crowd. They were stunning, yes, but standing beside Kethra, they were still overshadowed. Murmurs spread through the hall. Some, unable to help themselves, threw discreet glances at Henndar, suddenly seeing him in a different light. He had married a woman whose beauty outshone even these captivating envoys—one of the rare few who stood above the rest. One noble, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, leaned toward his companion and whispered, "No wonder the king never strays. If I had a wife like that—" A sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs. "Watch your tongue, you fool. That’s the queen you’re talking about." The man immediately stiffened, straightening his robes as if to shake off his careless remark. Indeed, no matter how one looked at it, Kethra was an untouchable presence. And whether it was coincidence or intentional, Henndar made eye contact with him, and smiled. This made him sweat buckets. I’m dead. In unison, they presented a delicate pendant—the Moonflow Dew Pendant. One of them intoned softly, "A single drop of sacred water from our hallowed springs, to bring clarity and healing." Their gift was presented with elegance, and though it was a remarkable artifact, the lingering thoughts in the air had already shifted. As they withdrew, some of the admirers let out quiet sighs—not only because of the women’s beauty, but because the reality had settled in. No matter how much they yearned, there were heights that even they could not reach. Just as the excitement from the women’s grand gesture began to settle, another wave of anticipation rippled through the hall. The Celestial Fang delegation had arrived. Unlike the dramatic and calculated entrance of the Elwicks, the Celestial Fang representatives strode in with the air of warriors who had no time for pomp and spectacle. Their armor gleamed under the chandeliers, their movements disciplined, their presence commanding. They carried themselves not with arrogance but with the quiet confidence of those who let strength speak louder than words. At their head was the formidable Grand Marshal Kaizhen, a man built like a fortress, his silver-threaded cloak barely concealing the scars earned from a lifetime on the battlefield. He stepped forward, offering Henndar a firm nod—no unnecessary words, no exaggerated courtesies. Henndar, ever the showman, spread his arms wide in mock astonishment. "Kaizhen! You’re actually here? I half-expected you to send a letter carved into a boulder and call it a day." Laughter erupted through the crowd, but Kaizhen remained unfazed, his expression unreadable save for the faintest flicker of amusement in his steel-gray eyes. "A boulder would have sufficed," he rumbled, his deep voice carrying effortlessly over the murmurs of the hall. "But I was told diplomacy requires a more personal touch." Henndar grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Diplomacy? You mean you’re not here to challenge me to a duel in the middle of my daughter’s ceremony? I’m almost disappointed." Kaizhen exhaled sharply—his version of a chuckle. "Your daughter has taken her first step into the world of cultivation. It is a significant occasion." He raised a hand, and one of the warriors behind him stepped forward, carrying a long, cloth-wrapped object. With a practiced motion, Kaizhen unraveled it, revealing a gleaming spear with a shaft of dark, polished wood and a blade that shimmered with an ethereal light. "This is the Fangpiercer," he announced. "Forged from the fangs of a thousand-year-old celestial beast. It will never dull, never break, and will respond only to the one it recognizes as worthy." A hush fell over the hall as the significance of the gift settled in. The Celestial Fang Kingdom did not part with their weapons lightly. To receive one was to be acknowledged by their warriors—a rare honor indeed. Lia hesitated before stepping forward, her eyes darting to her father for reassurance. Henndar simply winked. "Go on, little one. Let’s see if the spear likes you." With careful hands, Lia reached for the weapon. The moment her fingers brushed the shaft, a faint pulse of energy coursed through her, like the distant echo of a heartbeat. The weapon was... watching her. Judging her. Then, as if satisfied, the energy settled, and the weight in her hands became natural, familiar. Lia let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Kaizhen inclined his head, approval flashing in his otherwise stoic features. "It seems the spear has chosen." Henndar clapped his hands together. "Well, that settles it! My daughter now has a weapon, and I officially owe you one. That’s not dangerous at all." As Kaizhen stepped back, Lia could feel the weight of expectations settle over her shoulders. The presentation continued with a mix of heartfelt and grand offerings. Children from the capital had crafted a garland of wildflowers, simple yet vibrant. A group of artisans gifted a collection of miniature sculptures depicting moments from her life so far, each one painstakingly detailed. Despite the grandeur, Lia found herself treasuring the simpler gifts most. They felt more personal, more sincere. When the final gift had been given, Kethra stepped forward to address the crowd. "Your generosity knows no bounds. Today, we celebrate not just Lia’s entrance into the world of cultivation, but also the bond we share as a kingdom united." The crowd erupted into cheers, and the festivities began in earnest. Yet, as Lia clutched the Harmony Lute and the jade charm, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of her story. As the Elwicks arrived, their entrance was nothing short of dramatic. Draped in their finest, they carried an air of self-assurance that turned heads and drew murmurs from the crowd. At their head was Eryndor Elwick, a man whose presence commanded attention, his steps calculated, his expression unreadable. When he reached Henndar, he extended a hand, his lips curling into a polite yet guarded smile. Henndar hesitated, but not in fear—his hesitation was deliberate, a moment of theatrical tension that made the crowd hold their breath. Then, with a grin as wide as the Vermillion Kingdom itself, Henndar clasped Eryndor’s hand. The handshake wasn’t ordinary. The moment their hands met, a ripple of energy surged outward. It was subtle, like a whisper of wind, but powerful enough to send shivers down the spines of those nearby. The faint glow of red and gold spread briefly before dissipating, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake. Lia, standing nearby, blinked in confusion as Henndar chuckled, breaking the tension. "Always with the dramatics, Elder Er," he said, his tone laced with humor. "If you wanted to make an entrance, you’ve certainly succeeded." The crowd exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to react to the king’s lighthearted tone. The Elwicks, after all, were a touchy subject, and this casual approach was unexpected. Eryndor smiled faintly, inclining his head. "It is a significant occasion, after all." His voice was smooth, carrying the weight of hidden meanings. "And we’ve brought a gift worthy of the princess’s first step into cultivation." "You sure you’re not here to bribe me?" Henndar joked. They laughed, but the glint in Elder Er’s eyes held a deeper meaning. He waved at his group. At this, the eldest son of the Elwicks stepped forward, carrying a small, ornately carved wooden box. Every detail of the box hinted at its value, from the intricate engravings of phoenix flames to the glint of gemstones embedded in its surface. Lia hesitated, glancing nervously at her father. Henndar noticed and laughed again, patting her shoulder gently. "Go on, Lia. Let’s see what treasure they’ve decided to part with today." His amusement was infectious, drawing a few chuckles from the crowd. The shift in mood was subtle yet significant; Henndar’s easy demeanor turned what could have been a tense moment into one of curiosity. Lia stepped forward, her hands trembling slightly as she opened the box. Inside lay a pendant—a simple yet elegant design, its chain made of fiery gold and its centerpiece a gem that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. "This," Eryndor explained,(more like bragged) his voice steady, "is the Infernal Heart Pendant. A treasure passed down through the Elwick line. It grants the wearer absolute immunity to heat and amplifies their fire-based abilities to unimaginable levels." Gasps rippled through the room, and whispers erupted like wildfire. To give away such a powerful artifact—a cornerstone of the Elwick legacy—was unheard of. The artifact was something of a family heirloom and only few had seen it before in books. Even the weakest person could become a threat once that item was in their possession. Its effects on the user’s abilities were nothing short of legendary. As to why he would give such an item so freely, they couldn’t tell. It was obvious he had it out for Henndar so the observant ones couldn’t help but start thinking of possible benefits he could gain from giving such an item to an outsider. One could say they were part of the family, but in truth, they weren’t so this act had a lot more meaning to it than seen. Henndar leaned closer to Lia, his voice low and teasing. "Looks like you’ve got a fiery future ahead, little one. Quite literally." Lia couldn’t help but smile, her father’s humor easing her nerves. She held up the pendant, its fiery glow casting a warm light across her face, and the crowd erupted in applause. Elder Er bowed deeply, his smirk hidden behind a veil of politeness. "May it serve you well, Princess Lia." As he stepped back into the Elwicks’ fold, Lia clutched the pendant tightly, feeling its energy pulse faintly in her hand. She wasn’t sure if it was meant as a gift or a claim, but one thing was certain: the Elwicks were watching her closely, and this was only the beginning. The eldest son, Isir Elwick looked at Eryndor, who nodded an approval. He stepped forward once again, a handsome young lad, he was. Henndar smiled at him, eyes glinting with mischief. "If you’re looking to court my daughter, there’s more I’ll expect, you know," he said lightly, his tone playful—but deliberately so. A hush fell over the crowd, their gazes flickering between Isir and Lia. The implication hung in the air, unspoken yet impossible to ignore. Isir’s expression remained unreadable at first, his sharp features betraying nothing. Then, ever so slightly, the corner of his lips lifted—not quite a smirk, but close. He dipped his head in a show of respect, yet his golden eyes gleamed with something deeper. Amusement? Challenge? Lia, caught off guard, felt heat rise to her face. She tightened her grip on the pendant, resisting the urge to fidget under the weight of so many watching eyes. Eryndor chuckled softly, breaking the moment. "A jest, I’m sure," he said smoothly, though the calculating glint in his gaze suggested otherwise. "Still, it’s good to know where the bar is set, Your Majesty." Henndar let out a booming laugh, clapping a hand on Isir’s shoulder. "High, my dear Elder Er. Very high."