Chapter 87: Seeing the Royal Family

Chapter 87: Seeing the Royal FamilyThe morning sun filtered through stained-glass windows as Inigo stood at the gates of the Royal Citadel, heart beating a little faster than usual. The towering spires loomed above, their silver-gilt edges catching the light like blades pointed at the heavens. Banners bearing the crest of the Elandran royal family—an emerald phoenix soaring above a crown of stars—fluttered in the gentle wind. He had never seen anything like this before. Not even back in his old world. Sure, he’d binge-watched fantasy anime where protagonists were summoned to palaces, greeted by princesses, and paraded in front of nobles—but now, it was happening to him. And he was very much aware of it. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, adjusting the collar of the finely pressed white tunic they gave him. "I’m wearing silk. I look like I’m about to attend prom." Lyra, standing beside him in a sky-blue gown, laughed softly. "You clean up well. Try not to trip on the carpet when we enter." "I’m used to armor and grit, not velvet and—whatever this is." He motioned to his polished boots, which looked like they cost more than most taverns. From behind, Guildmaster Thorne grunted. He looked mildly out of place himself, dressed in a ceremonial uniform instead of his usual war-worn armor. "Quit fidgeting, Velasquez. The royals already know who you are. They requested this meeting themselves. Just speak plainly. You’ll be fine." A royal herald approached, his cloak trailing behind him like a river of gold. He gave a courteous bow. "Heroes of Elandra. His Majesty, King Eldrath III, and Her Majesty, Queen Elenara, are ready to receive you." Inigo gulped. "Well. Here goes nothing." The massive double doors opened with a deep chime, revealing a hallway lined with armored knights, ceremonial guards, and marble columns etched with glowing runes. A red carpet stretched forward like a ribbon guiding him toward destiny. He walked. Each step echoed like a heartbeat in his ears. He wasn’t used to attention, not like this. The streets were one thing—people cheering his name, children singing songs—but this was different. This was... elite. Powerful. Royal. They entered the throne room. It was massive. A domed ceiling soared far above, painted with murals of the kingdom’s history. Crystalline chandeliers floated mid-air, held aloft by gentle magic. Silver-plated guards stood motionless like statues. And at the far end of the hall, seated on an elevated dais beneath a massive phoenix crest, were the king and queen. Sёarch* The ηovёlFire .net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. King Eldrath III wore regal armor polished to mirror shine, a sapphire-lined cape draped over his shoulder. He looked to be in his early fifties—sharp-featured, silver-bearded, eyes calm but piercing. Queen Elenara was elegance incarnate. Long silver hair cascaded down her back, her emerald gown shimmering like starlight. But her most striking feature was the serene warmth in her eyes. The moment she looked at Inigo, she smiled softly—as if recognizing something in him. Beside them sat someone else—a young woman, no older than twenty, with honey-blonde hair tied in elaborate braids, dressed in a white and gold court gown. Her face was delicate, like a painting come to life, and her bright violet eyes fixed on Inigo with open curiosity. Lyra leaned in and whispered, "That’s Princess Aeralyn. First in line to the throne." Inigo blinked. "You’re kidding." "Nope. And I think she just smiled at you." He looked up. She was indeed smiling. His heart jumped. They stopped before the dais and bowed. Thorne dropped to one knee. Lyra did the same. Inigo followed a second late, trying not to look like a fool. The king rose. His voice was rich and commanding. "Rise, defenders of Elandra. Today, we offer not judgment—but gratitude." They stood. "Inigo Velasquez," the king continued, stepping down from the dais with a heavy, armored stride. "Your deeds have reached our ears not from bards or rumor, but from those who stood beside you. From commanders. From wounded. From my own knights. You held the line. You shattered the mist. You faced a demon vanguard and lived." Inigo stayed quiet, unsure how to respond. The queen stepped forward now, her presence gentler, like moonlight. "We know you are not native to Elandra. Your accent, your tools, your strange but wondrous weaponry—it all speaks of a distant land. And yet, you chose to fight for this city." "I couldn’t let it fall," Inigo said, voice steadier than he felt. "Didn’t matter if I was from here or not." Princess Aeralyn stepped forward now, a bit cautiously, holding something wrapped in silk. She extended it to Inigo. "This is a medal of the Phoenix Star," she said, voice like soft bells. "Bestowed only upon those who display unmatched courage and selflessness in the kingdom’s darkest hour." He accepted it with both hands. The medal glinted with golden light—shaped like a phoenix rising from flame, its wings wrapping around a crystal core. "Thank you," he said, bowing again. The princess didn’t step back immediately. She studied him with wide eyes, then said, "They say your weapon roared like a dragon." Inigo grinned faintly. "It does tend to make noise." A flicker of amusement danced across her face. "May I... see it one day?" "I’ll show you how it works," he said. "Maybe." Her cheeks colored slightly. She returned to her seat, clearly trying not to look flustered. The king chuckled. "I suspect your name will echo in these halls long after this war is over, Inigo Velasquez," he said. "And should you ever need shelter, support, or resources, you have only to ask. You are no longer a guest. You are Elandran now." Thorne gave Inigo a proud slap on the back. Lyra nodded with a small, fond smile. The king returned to his throne. "For now, enjoy the peace. Rest while it lasts." The court dismissed with a bow. Inigo followed Lyra and Thorne out of the chamber, medal in hand, stunned by how... surreal it all felt. Outside the palace, sunlight bathed the city’s towers in gold. "Well," Lyra said, grinning, "was it everything you imagined?" Inigo looked down at the medal, then at the path ahead. "No," he said, slowly. "It was better."