She was, by all accounts and reason, beautiful. Pleasantly so. Her hips lay at the right proportions, the curtain of hair she had—or would have, if it weren’t braided—stretched down to her waist to a point where a man can save their life one day with that thing, if they somehow managed to find a cliff someplace. Ripe lips, a slip towards thoughts too improper; how could any person of the opposite sex find themselves on an even playing field with her, especially when she’s so close… to him?

Unlike the rest of her people, whatever possessed them for the wackiness of unchecked individuality did not affect her so. She expressed herself, true. Ironically enough, on her own individual style which had some minimalism. But more brilliant than any.

The tension in the chamber fell in a drain, filtering out most. The Elders squinted. And the younger generation’s eyes widened. At this place where the unquiet reveled it soothed itself down in waves. She caused an effect without so much as lifting a finger, and from what he surmises she seems to not have noticed it whatsoever. Her own attention was directed to one individual. Where the boy evaluated her with the same dispassionate, unfeeling eyes as the rest of them—family or otherwise.

The resemblance of the Suran family was there. Made it much easier to transfer his displeasure to the next. He liked to hate her more, at that very moment. Because, she affected him with her invisible magic. However, unlike the rest of the people in this chamber, he had the decency to keep it lidded.

She eyed him much the same as he did her. But he was shocked. Though the Grittus clan was by now mostly separated into many families, they all held distant relations; the most obvious of which was the shared trait of: dark eyes, black hair. These Firecrown strangers weren’t too much of a shock after getting…somewhat used to their penchant for the flamboyant, but—her… this girl…

His dark met an energetic crimson. The longer he stared, the more he felt like he wasn’t looking at her eyes but…

…Staring at a flame which could never be quenched. Could swear that the itching in his shoulder was a calling to raise his spear again. Suddenly, she gave him a half-grin.

 “I’m shocked,” she said, unconsciously twirling a lock, “most people quake at that probe of mine. A bit of spine in you.” Xinrei was lost at that, but she broke off and shot a glance at her brother. “Are you done teasing?”

 Suran Yol laughed. “Somewhat.”

At Xinrei’s shoulder glance, he bowed. “I apologize for my overt disrespect. I meant no offense, Xinrei Grittus.” Voicing it in a way that, although he did apologize, it was shallower than a spoon. A play at one.

Both share the same parents; yet only one carries those eyes. And—Wait. In front of him, she giggled. Xinrei’s head shot to the Elders. To his father. To that wrinkled bastard. Back to her. He could swear he misheard. An alliance? Marriage? That means…

 “Father,” he said. “We must talk.”

 Patriarch Meng coolly said, “You mean ‘Patriarch,’ and not now. Save it for later. Sit.”

That later may never come! Teeth gnashing, Xinrei let his gaze linger on her as he turned. He didn’t have the stomach to meet her crimson eyes again. Now, that seat he went through the trouble for could be ten-thousand li away for all he cared. Before long he was the disturbance. His clan put the pieces together; settling down as servile as expected. The Chosen were too enraptured by the sight of her to think straight; not even Rangwha spared him a glance.

Seated, he realized immediately there was no other for the two. In just a blink, the Suran siblings were behind their uncle as if their place was always by his side. A jovial and a mischievous set of eyes settled on him while he sulked. The nearest Elder, Lai’s mother and the Patriarch’s Spymaster held down a smirk.

 The Priest sniffed. “You’re late.”

 “Sightseeing. A thousand pardons,” The girl said offhandedly. Her uncle didn’t twist his head, but Xinrei saw his face that had a question on it, for a brief second. He grunted. “Patriarch Meng, I’ve no energy to accompany you in… the celebrations.”

 The Patriarch sent a knowing look to the Priest. The two traded invisible messages with eye contact so thoroughly one might think they’re born for espionage. Xinrei could only wish that some of that, he could intercept for himself. Alas, the impossibility of it kept him always a step behind his father’s plans, whatever they entail. Anger sizzled inside. Xinrei had known, as the heir of the whole Grittus clan he would be eventually forced to marry as necessity requires. However, he wished for that day to be long away. When he thought about it, unlike Grisla he had time to delay—there weren’t many daughters worth the time. He hadn’t felt a smidge of pity for them who had to be dumped in two great filters—his father’s ambition—and Xinrei’s taste.

Part of his unending chase for power was to prevent things like this. Who could tell him what to do if he had the strength? His father wouldn’t dare waste his glorious son on a whim. Which sometimes made Xinrei wish he had a sibling. At least then, he wouldn’t be forced. Before he knew it, a servant had come to take his spear back to his room and endure the full brunt of his glare till she disappeared.

 “Understandable,” Patriarch Meng said. “Age steals patience. Shall we walk?” He got up before the man had even parted his lips. The more Xinrei studied the Priest, the more he realized—his feet didn’t even touch the floor while he sat; but he wouldn’t dare stare for a second longer. Suran Vey nodded after a quick whisper from him.

 “May you all…have an enjoyable evening,” the Priest said. The man on passing gave Xinrei a final look—startling him. A strong, ferocious red greeted, and vanished.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The table was all but talkative. The High Elders wanted nothing to do with the other side; a mutual feeling. These guests instead exchanged small glances, brief words between themselves; silent to the ear as they’ve sealed off the air surrounding. Well, the Chosen talked at least. Just… not to him, that wasn’t unusual.

A stir of the air nearest to him and Fang Lai came. Isolating him and himself, if someone wanted to eavesdrop, they’d have to audaciously break the miniscule barrier, however that opens a new discussion to be sent on. Anyone here could do it, but of course, the silk-thin civility keeping them from lunging for each other’s throats prevented it. If such things were to come to pass, Xinrei had no doubt—not only him—that they would take a severe beating. Easily inferred by the obedience of the usual overbearing Elders on the High Council, now as docile as kittens; and they looked pained to do so.

 “Ain’t she somethin’,” Fang Lai whispered-not-a-whisper, “I’ve never seen a girl’s hair shine like that, think she does that herself or is it natural?”

 Xinrei didn’t want to meet the eyes of anyone; it’d only stoke his anger greatly. But Fang Lai obviously wished for death. Especially since he hadn’t flinched to Xinrei’s slow moving swivel of his head towards him; as if someone yelled his name from afar. “Amused?”

 He did a half-nod. “Greatly. What, what’s with that face? Wait… don’t tell me that—”

 “I am not interested.”

 “You sure?”

 “Yes.”

 “Positive?”

 “Absolutely.”

 Fang Lai squinted, leaning forward. “I mean, even you have to admit that she’s—”

 “I know,” he growled. “But it wasn’t my choice.” Fang Lai looked at him. Either he was concluding that Xinrei Grittus was the best liar he ever faced and defeated him, who specialized in lying! Or… he must’ve had an accident long ago. Just watching the clockwork inside Fang Lai’s head gave him an impulse to knock him into the infirmary.

 “That’s the issue…?” He said disbelievingly. “Listen, there’re way worse deals out there. Abrupt, yes. B–But! Hey, don’t turn away… I’m saying… compared to who my father married… you’ve got it good.” Fang Lai’s shoulders suddenly shivered; but his family Matriarch hadn’t looked at him whatsoever.

 Xinrei appraised him again and articulated with additional emphasis to make it clear: “If I wanted to search for beauty, I’d have it. I must be an Immortal. It is not a whimsical dream; I will make it—reality!” Fang Lai’s gaze drifted to his chair, when Xinrei had realized the indentations weren’t there before. He hid away his hand. “It’s a distraction. A ball-and-chain to keep me here. My father knows my talent will obligate me to search for greater heights, and he will not risk that. Risk me, and the clan with. I cannot abide by it. The clan is everything, but… my dream is everything, too.”

 The spymaster’s heir withheld a thought, for once. He studied Xinrei, even while the loose strands of his shaggy hair tumbled down. “It was a surprise to me, too.”

 “…You did not know?” And the man shook his head.

 Fang Lai shrugged. “My Grandmother may be a gossip ‘round me… even so, she has her limits. It was important enough to recall it. If that gives you thoughts. However”—He leaned close; personal space gone—“believe this, if this marriage was predestined why wait until now? You were blossoming even then, while Grisla was around. Sure, you may’ve been in his…” Fang Lai reminded himself of who he was speaking to, with what attitude, and corrected, “…a rival to you, but your talent was still more than enough to overwhelm. So why now?”

“Nobody besides the groom and her brother bothered to give you an ounce of their attention. The rest of us were nothing more than air.”

He was right. From the beginning, to the present they’d hadn’t cared about him. Xinrei doubted if things would change whether he was here or not. Then what was the point? He didn’t need to inspect her cultivation to know the obvious: she’s a daughter of heaven. Though he knew nothing about her potential, a ‘Firecrown Empire’ has descended upon them. Thinking about it more—he froze. Even the One-City Kingdom was just that. A Kingdom, with the primary capitol of One city surrounded by a hundred vassals. To dare call themselves an Empire—what kind of resources and powerhouses could they possess?

Their arrogance wasn’t mined from nothing. Same as he. The right of the strong. The right of the powerful. He met her again; what with the raging inferno in her eyes, he knew there was more to be seen of this world. Things that could only be understood the further along the Path one traveled. To reach out, and grasp that… requires freedom.

And it’ll start with the breaking of this marriage.

 “What is their aim?” Xinrei said, more for himself.

 “Well…they said it plain actually.”

 “An alliance.”

Instantly he thought, Wait. We’re just a clan in the thrall of another, more powerful giant. Our Queen is possibly a match for these people, but to force an alliance with a power that equals, or perhaps, outstrips her own and the kingdom’s?! It must be… behind her back. Why else would father—the Patriarch wait until the very last moment to inform us, the spine and shield of the clan? He doesn’t care about the girl and me at all, no. That’d be too simple. Webs within webs. The greater objective is this.

A deep frown planted itself on him. What’s likely to happen will be the clamping down on our marriage, keeping it secret even after, maybe. More important, than all of it—what are they to gain from this? Mainlanders don’t travel our way, it’s the other way around. The Huvin Continent makes our Hannamith look like a pebble in scale! Why…?

 “—If you keep twisting your face like that it might get stuck,” a voice said. The ice met the torch. She had long ago vanished from her seat to stand by his side. Suran Vey’s overpowering beauty might force another man to submit to her unconditionally, but the more he looked, the less attraction the woman held. She might’ve been intentionally picked specifically because, and more he couldn’t know. Her cryptic smile that lay permanently installed to her face made her seem as a collaborator in all this. Fingers clenched for something that wasn’t there. He’ll have a word with that servant later.

 Briskly, “What do you want?” Xinrei said.

 She opened her mouth to answer but paused; and suddenly turned. “Is he like this to everyone?”

 “Just about, yeah.” Fang Lai’s teeth showed. Her magic may not work on Xinrei, however: “I’ve always been curious about this… Firecrown Empire of yours, do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

 Xinrei winced. My displeasure wasn’t permission to be so brazen, fool. But Suran Vey looked askance at Fang Lai, and, with his nice education on social intelligence he promptly shut his mouth upon reading the moment. Shocking, because outside of the Chosen, Fang Lai’s tongue had more than once landed him with women that were disgusted with him on sight and mellowed out later from his charm.

 “That’s fine. You’re a tad more interesting than I thought.”

 He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Am I, now?” He had her pegged. Certain she was just another fool maiden looking to help the family or hooking an object of her infatuation. From bad to worse, he’d say.

 “I think it would be best if we took a walk as well. I believe we can clear up some things with a talk.”

 “Not interested,” Xinrei rose.

 “You’d be interested,” she said, tilting her head, “if I told you why we’re here.”

 Xinrei gave pause and surveyed her again. “Continue.”