Chapter 134 – Floor 12: Part 3

Prince Aiden was alive!

The rumour burned through Londinium like a fire. His name was on every lip, and the talk on every street corner was regarding the Prince's miraculous return. Even in the circles of Nobility, Aiden was the topic of conversation.

While the Lords and Ladies of Anglia liked to act regal and dignified as if serving the Kingdom and the gods were their top priority, those who knew them most recognized that gossip was the driving force in their lives.

They lived for rumours and juicy tidbits whispered behind each other's backs. Affairs and infidelities, the secret names of mistresses and those who lived apart from their spouses. The more sordid the detail, the more they would pass that knowledge between them.

So, when the rumour of the dead Prince being found alive made it to their circles, it spread like a plague. Aiden had been missing since he was a child, and few knew much about him as he had been sequestered in the palace for most of his youth for his safety.

It had only been when assassins had breached the Knights guarding him that they had sent him overseas for his protection, which had ended in supposed tragedy.

The astonishing return of the Prince just when his father was about to lose the throne was seen skeptically by many of the nobles who sensed a trick by the King. Many doubted the veracity of this rumour, thinking that, if it were true, the King had found an imposter in a desperate attempt to retain the Crown.

Such doubts only spurred the whispers more, and the rumour flew to all corners of the Kingdom, each becoming more fantastical in the retelling. Prince Aiden had returned. Prince Aiden was a fake. Prince Aiden had never left in the first place, and the King had hidden him his entire life. The King had prayed to the gods for Aiden's return, and they had answered.

In the gardens of Duke Ellington, nephew of the King of Anglia, a group of noble lords and ladies had gathered for a luncheon. This event was not in response to the rumours; in fact, it had been planned for many weeks.

It occurred near the start of the 'Social Season,' when the gentry returned to Londinium from their estates to socialize with their peers.

There would be balls and parties, luncheons and events. It was also the perfect time for the young men and women of the Nobility to meet and possibly form relationships.

This luncheon at the Duke's just happened to coincide perfectly with the rumour of the Prince's return and the first opportunity for those present to swap knowledge and gossip about a topic that was sweeping through the Kingdom.

There were dozens of young lords and ladies, heirs to titles and newly promoted Knights. Wearing the finest dresses, the women looked beautiful in the warm sunlight of late spring. Shielded by parasols and by tall trees spreading their shade, their pale skin was well protected from the light.

The men wore suits and coats despite the heat. With a faint glow of magical enchantments that spoke to their wealth and privilege, the spells on their clothing did nothing more than curb the temperature, yet they were expensive enough to be forever out of reach of commoners.

Lady Matilda waved her small hand fan in front of her, more to show off the colourful painting she had designed on it by a famous artist than a real need to cool herself down. The painting was of a dove in exquisite detail, and she knew from the reactions of the ladies around her that they recognized it.

Having accomplished her goal, she closed it with a snap and turned to her cousin.

"So, is it true or not?" Matilda asked as she idly ran a hand across her hair to ensure that nothing was askew. Her maids had spent hours pinning it up, ensuring that each honey-brown lock was in its proper place. It perfectly matched her new green dress that she had custom-ordered just for this occasion.

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As the daughter of a Baron and having just been 'introduced' into the social circle of Nobility, this was her first real opportunity to mix with many of her peers. Not to mention that the Queen herself was going to be here!

She wanted to make a good impression on everyone, especially the young men who were eyeing her slightly from across the garden as they chatted and enjoyed their drinks.

Matilda's cousin, Daphne, responded.

Daphne was more quiet and reserved than her cousin. Preferring her family's rural estate over the bustle, intrigue and endless chatter of Londinium; it had been several years since she had been presented to the King and Queen. She could have been said to be a veteran of the Social Season, provided she actually cared about it.

Daphne merely shrugged at the question as she idly swirled the tea in her cup, barely paying attention to the events around her. She flat-out ignored the young men who kept trying to catch her eye; each of them was a buffoon, in her opinion.

If Matilda was prim, perfect and pretty, then Daphne was effortless, beautiful, and uncaring about it. Talented in magic, she studied at the University of Londinium for several years before her familial duties had taken precedence. Now, she split her time between helping her family manage the estate and unlocking the secrets of the magical world.

She was only here because her father despaired that his only child would never have a family of her own, and she didn't want to disappoint him any more than necessary.

With a sigh, Daphne set down her teacup on its saucer.

"I don't know. Perhaps the Queen will tell us when she arrives." Daphne replied, not needing to ask what her cousin meant by her question. It was obvious to everyone what rumour Matilda was referring to.

"You'll need to wait awhile longer. The Queen just sent word that she won't be coming. There is a family matter requiring her attention at the palace." A young man said as he practically threw himself into the chair next to Daphne.

Where Matilda was prim and proper, with no piece of hair or article of clothing out of place, her brother Marten was the opposite. He was handsome, but he hadn't shaved in several days. While perfectly tailored and made of the finest materials, his clothing had several buttons undone and was creased as if he had slept in them.

But, like Daphne, Marten didn't care what others thought. His sword skills had made him one of the King's Knights, and many could forgive his rough appearance if it meant they could make use of his abilities.

"A family matter! Then it's true!" Matilda was practically bouncing in her chair with excitement. A lost Prince, returning home after so many years. It was like something from a fairy tale. Marten had a strange look on his face at her statement, something out of place enough that Daphne noticed.

"What do you know, Marten?" Daphne inquired. She was curious about what could make Marten take an interest in gossip. He never was one to tell tales or care much about the Londinium rumour mill. A family matter was a vague reason for the Queen not to attend today's luncheon.

Did Marten know something more about the Lost Prince's return?

When Marten didn't answer, Matilda's eyes narrowed as she stared daggers at her brother.

"Spill it, or I'll tell Father that you've taken a fascination with Abigail Waterton! He'll have you married off to her in a heartbeat!" Matilda threatened, and this time, Marten flinched at her words. He and Abigail were like fire and water; they had been at odds since they were children.

Marten had to admit to himself that Matilda couldn't have found a better threat to use against him. Downing his glass of liquor and feeling the satisfying burn as it went down his throat, Marten set his glass down on the table and nodded.

"Fine. You'll get word soon enough, so no harm if I tell you both now. The rumours are true; Prince Aiden is back. He should have just arrived at the palace a little while ago. No one aside from the Queen and a handful of others even knew he was still alive." Marten said, his voice dropping to a near whisper so that only Daphne and Matilda could hear him.

Matilda was almost giddy with delight while Daphne frowned at the revelation.

"What about Alfred?" Daphne asked. She didn't know the young prince well; they had only interacted with each other a few times. He was often bedridden and a few years younger than her. The few times she had seen him, she had been struck by how small and frail he appeared for his age.

"What about him? He was never going to be Crown Prince anyway. He's probably relieved his brother is back, ready and able to take the throne. But that doesn't matter. It's Aiden we all need to be concerned with." Marten shivered slightly as a flash of worry shot across his face.

"Why?" Daphne asked before her cousin eclipsed her voice.

"You’ve seen him!? What’s he like?!” Matilda exclaimed, flushing red when she saw that the men and women at other tables turned to look at their group. Ashamed, she lowered her voice and asked again.

“Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. There’s more mana in him than any mage or Knight I’ve ever seen. He looks like he’s been to hell, slaying demons, and only came back to Earth because there was nothing left there to kill. I don’t know where the King found Prince Aiden, but it may have been best if he had left him there.”