Chapter 2: Daughters

King Huerald had five daughters and no sons, which meant there were no direct heirs to his throne. This was a great annoyance to the king, though he did not intend to relinquish his rule for centuries to come. As elves, they lived far longer than humans. Reas, being human, was part of a special pact formed between his family and House Illsum, which granted him extended youth and life, though he had yet to truly need it.

House Illsum was one of the five major houses in Ceriphinam and the strongest among them. The king, as the monarch of House Illsum, ruled not only his house but also the entirety of Ceriphinam. The house’s seal represented two dragons, one blue and one red, coiled around a purple gem with an eye at its center—symbolizing their power and vigilance. Prominent members of the house included the king’s two sisters, the queen’s brother, and of course, the princesses.

At this moment, one of the princesses was causing a minor commotion in the royal palace. Princess Elara, the second eldest, was refusing to wear the dress her father had chosen for her. It was for the upcoming birthday celebration of her younger sister, Princess Lysandra.

Elara was far from a perfect princess. She refused to wear a crown and insisted on being clad in her battle gear, armor and all. She rejected the quiet and peaceful life within the palace, yearning instead to be on the field of war, though there was none at the moment. Her hair was blonde, like her mother’s, and her eyes were a striking red. Though she was not tall, she carried herself with such strength that one felt as if she towered over them. Unlike her mother, she was not blessed with a generous chest, but her figure was still far from unnoticeable, especially with the hand-molded fit of her plate mail. Her waist was incredibly thin, accentuated dramatically by her thick thighs and hips. Her skin remained unmarred despite her desire for battle, as she had never fought anyone beyond sparring with guards who were instructed to avoid hurting her. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep it out of her face, and she emanated a fierce passion. Her temper was extreme.

“I am sorry, Elara, but your father has made his choice.”

Reas held up a beautiful red dress with intricate gold designs inlaid throughout.

“It’s ‘Your Highness’ to you, Butler. And I don’t care. If he wants me to wear it, he can tell me himself.”

Her volume gradually increased until she was screaming in his face. Technically, Reas’s position was higher than that of the princess, but to avoid conflict, he simply nodded.

“Of course, Your Highness. Why don’t you just try it on and see how it looks?”

“No, who are you to give orders anyway? You are a servant, nothing more. So go put that dress back and bring me a drink... Butler.”

Her arrogant face sneered, and her eyes narrowed.

Reas nodded, keeping his expression neutral despite Elara’s scorn. “Very well, Your Highness. I will have a maid bring you a drink.”

He turned to leave but paused when Elara’s voice cut through the air again. “And don’t think you can just waltz away. I’m not finished with you.”

Reas turned back to face her, meeting her intense gaze with calm composure. “If there’s anything else you need, Your Highness?”

Elara’s face flushed with frustration, her red eyes blazing. “I need you to understand that I will not be paraded around like some doll in a dress I have no interest in wearing. I have more important things to do.”

Her voice softened slightly, though it still carried a hint of defiance. “I would rather be in the training grounds, preparing for battle, than wasting my time on these ridiculous royal duties.”

Reas inclined his head, his voice measured. “I understand, Your Highness. However, it is essential for you to attend these events to maintain the royal family’s public image. Your father wishes for you to be present, and his request is not made lightly.”

Elara’s expression wavered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure. “Then tell him to come and speak to me himself. I am not one to be cowed by a dress.”

Reas took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I will relay your message, Your Highness. For now, please try to understand the necessity of these appearances.”

Elara’s face softened slightly, but her resolve remained firm. “Fine. I will wear the dress, but only because it’s a requirement. Just make sure my father understands that this does not mean I’m happy about it.”

Reas offered a polite nod, and set the dress down on the edge of a dresser “Of course, Your Highness. I will inform him of your decision.”

As he stepped out of the room, he summoned a maid to fulfill Elara’s request for a drink. The princess’s temper had not been easily managed, but Reas knew his role was to navigate the complex dynamics of the royal family with as much grace and diplomacy as possible. Each member had their own quirks and demands, and it was his duty to balance them while maintaining the palace’s harmony.

After spending years with the family, Reas knew each member well, even if some of them did not know his name.

Gilae, the eldest at 51 years old, was still in her prime due to the longevity of elves. Elves mature at the same rate as humans but remain in their young adult years far longer, so Gilae was just now reaching the equivalent of her 30s by human standards. She was cold and distant, embodying the most regal demeanor among her sisters. Gilae took her role seriously, following her parents' example and maintaining a sense of royal duty. She was just as shapely as her mother and did not shy away from showcasing it. Her green eyes and matching hair were complemented by her preference for green clothing, and a blue gem rested in her crown. Although she possessed no magic, Gilae was the most politically savvy of the sisters. Their interactions were rare, and when they did occur, they were curt and concise.

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Elara, the second eldest at 45 years old, was the self-proclaimed warrior. Reas traced her warrior persona back to her efforts to stand out against her more proper older sister. Elara was feisty with a short temper and had no magical abilities. She was the most difficult to persuade, but her mind was straightforward, albeit stubborn.

Ureal, the middle child at 38 years old, was perhaps the most intriguing to Reas and his favorite to interact with. She was small in stature, with a flat chest. Ureal possessed a certain aloofness and drifting joy. Her hair was more white-silver than blonde, resembling her father's, and her blue eyes, along with the gem in her crown, matched her eyes. Despite lacking her mother’s curves, Ureal was the least modest of the sisters, not caring to hide her body. Though she had been deemed a magical prodigy at birth, she showed no interest in ruling and was often left to her own devices. Reas found her to be the most reasonable of the sisters.

Asarai, the second youngest at 25 years old, was the most needy of the group. She had a good figure but usually kept it hidden. More engrossed in books than in men or power, her brown hair, a warm hazel color, contrasted pleasantly with her family's colder tones. Her purple eyes were warm and inviting. Asarai behaved in the most stereotypical princess manner, avoiding physical activities entirely. Reas speculated that she would likely be married off to a wealthy old man for political reasons, and she would probably accept it without much resistance. Her magical abilities were minimal, specializing in wind, and were not very powerful.

Finally, there was Lysandra, the youngest. She frightened Reas the most. Turning 18 in 13 days, she had already proven to be the most dangerous in his eyes. Though the baby of the family, Lysandra was also the most cunning. Others might not see her as he did, but he was certain that Gilae and Queen Giseal recognized her potential as well. Lysandra excelled at concealing her true nature, successfully playing the role of the innocent noble. Her silver hair, reflecting her father’s, and her golden eyes added to her striking presence. While she possessed magic, Reas was unaware of its nature.

Reas headed toward the guard quarters. He had arranged to meet with the head guard, Commander Roderic, to discuss a few critical security updates before wrapping up his day. The corridors leading to the guard quarters were less opulent than the grand hallways of the palace but were no less impressive in their own right, lined with polished stone and functional decor.

Upon reaching the guard quarters, Reas was greeted by the stern-faced Commander Roderic. The commander was a tall, imposing figure with a graying beard and a posture that spoke of years of disciplined service. His armor was immaculate, reflecting his meticulous nature. Roderic’s eyes, sharp and piercing, assessed Reas with a blend of respect and scrutiny.

“Master Perant,” Roderic greeted, his voice steady and authoritative. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Commander Roderic,” Reas replied with a respectful nod. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me. I wanted to discuss the recent security concerns and any updates on the guard's readiness.”

Roderic motioned for Reas to follow him into a more private office within the quarters. The room was functional and practical, filled with maps and reports pinned to the walls. Roderic gestured for Reas to take a seat at a large wooden table cluttered with documents and plans.

“Firstly, let me assure you that the guards are maintaining their vigilance,” Roderic began. “We’ve increased patrols around the palace perimeter and have implemented additional security checks for all staff and visitors. The recent intelligence suggests a possible threat from outside the kingdom, but we have seen no direct indications of any imminent danger.”

Reas leaned forward, studying the maps spread out before him. “And what about the internal security measures? Are there any concerns regarding potential breaches or sabotage?”

Roderic’s expression grew more serious. “There have been a few minor incidents, mostly involving unauthorized access to restricted areas. We’ve identified the culprits and taken appropriate measures. However, I recommend that we conduct a thorough review of all access protocols and possibly update our security training to address these gaps.”

Reas nodded in agreement. “I’ll make sure to discuss these recommendations with the king and ensure that any necessary adjustments are made promptly. Is there anything else you need from me at this time?”

“Just your continued support and vigilance,” Roderic replied. “The palace’s security is always a top priority, and having your insight into these matters is invaluable.”

With their meeting concluded, Reas thanked Commander Roderic and made his way back to his quarters. The day had been long, and he was looking forward to a few moments of solitude. The corridors seemed quieter as the evening deepened, the palace settling into a more serene atmosphere.

Reas closed the door to his quarters with a soft click, the familiar hush of his private space providing a welcome contrast to the bustling palace. The room was dimly lit by a few strategically placed candles, their flickering flames casting a warm, inviting glow. The ambiance was soothing, a stark contrast to the day's demands.

He walked over to a large mahogany wardrobe, the rich wood polished to a deep sheen. As he reached it, he began to unfasten his jacket, his fingers deftly working the buttons one by one. The jacket slipped from his shoulders, revealing the crisp white shirt underneath, which clung to his torso, accentuating the contours of his physique. He shrugged the jacket off and draped it carefully over a nearby chair, his movements deliberate and practiced.

Next, Reas undid the tie around his neck. He loosened the knot with a few quick tugs, letting it fall away. He tossed the tie onto the same chair, where it lay across the jacket in a disheveled heap. The shirt, now untucked, revealed the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. He undid the top buttons, exposing a hint of his chest. His breath was steady and measured, each exhalation creating a slight flutter of the fabric against his skin.

As he continued, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up, revealing strong forearms covered in a light dusting of hair. He pulled the shirt from his trousers and eased it off, the fabric sliding smoothly over his shoulders and down his arms. He tossed the shirt onto the chair with the jacket and tie, his bare chest now exposed to the soft candlelight.

He then unfastened his belt, the leather strap making a soft whooshing sound as it slipped from its loops. With practiced ease, he undid the button and zipper of his trousers. The fabric loosened around his hips, and he pushed the trousers down, stepping out of them with a fluid motion. The trousers joined the growing pile on the chair, leaving him in nothing but his undergarments.

Reas walked over to a large mirror, the surface catching the candlelight and reflecting his toned physique. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling the bright red strands before smoothing them back into place. His eyes, a striking light blue, met his own gaze in the mirror as he removed his socks, one foot at a time.

He sighed contentedly and moved toward the en-suite bathroom, where the warm glow of a few more candles illuminated the space. The bathroom featured a luxurious, sunken tub with ornate brass fixtures. He turned on the faucet, letting the water run until it reached a comfortable temperature.

As Reas prepared for his bath, he noticed something peculiar. A large, bulky figure was slumped inside the tub, the water level rising around him. It was Rukus, his uncle, and a notorious drunkard. The dwarf was sprawled across the tub, snoring loudly, his beard splayed out in the water.

Reas sighed and shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. He had expected to enjoy a quiet bath, but it seemed his uncle had other plans. He approached the tub and gently nudged Rukus’s shoulder.

“Uncle Rukus,” Reas said softly, trying not to wake him too abruptly. “You’re in my bath.”

Rukus stirred slightly, mumbling incoherently as he blinked open one eye. His gaze was bleary, and he squinted up at Reas.

“Reas? What’re you doin’ in my bath?” Rukus slurred, attempting to sit up but slipping back into the water with a splash.

“It’s not your bath, it’s mine. But clearly, you’ve made yourself quite at home.” Reas chuckled, shaking his head.

Rukus grumbled something about “damned fine ale” and “no room to think.” He attempted to lift himself out of the tub but ended up half-submerged, the water soaking through his tunic and beard.

Reas grabbed a nearby towel and tossed it to his uncle. “Here, use this. I’ll get you a proper place to sleep. Just don’t drown in my bath, alright?”

With some effort, Reas helped Rukus out of the tub. The dwarf wobbled unsteadily as he wrapped himself in the towel, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

“Thanks, lad. Didn’t mean to intrude,” Rukus mumbled, his voice still thick with alcohol. “I’ll find my way out.”

Reas nodded and watched as his uncle stumbled out of the bathroom, making his way toward the guest room. Despite the interruption, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of fondness for Rukus’s disheveled state. The old dwarf had a knack for bringing a bit of chaos wherever he went, but he was family, and Reas would have it no other way.