Chapter 106: Chapter: 106 So where should we plan our engagement?

Five days had passed since Vivian and Charlotte came back from the dungeon.

After resting and getting treated, most of their injuries had healed.

Vivian’s wounds were worse, but his body healed quickly.

He didn’t even need much treatment, just some sleep while in his Vehemoth form.

In that form, his healing was almost four times faster than normal.

Still, sleeping like that wasn’t easy.

The horns on his head made it uncomfortable.

They would get caught in the bedsheet or the pillow, and turning to the other side while sleeping was almost impossible.

Sometimes he would wake up annoyed, pulling at the blanket tangled around his horns.

Even with those small problems, his body recovered completely.

But Charlotte was different.

Her body was fine, yet her mana hadn’t come back.

The backlash from using that time spell had left her weak and drained.

She told Vivian that her mana would return in about a week, but he was still worried.

Every time he looked at her pale face and tired eyes, he felt a small ache in his chest.

Though Charlotte hadn’t fully recovered from the backlash, she still had to travel a long distance.

Today was the day they were leaving for the capital of the Indrath Empire, Deldi.

It would take one full day to reach the capital by carriage.

Once they arrived, they would rest for a day, and the conference was planned for the day after that.

Now, Vivian and Charlotte stood in front of the royal carriage that had been sent to escort them.

A group of guards dressed in silver armor knelt before them and spoke in unison,

"We greet Princess Charlotte and the heir of the Zenithara House, Vivian D. Zenithara!"

Their voices echoed through the courtyard.

The guards’ eyes were filled with deep respect as they looked at Charlotte.

But when their gaze turned to Vivian, there was more than respect, there was admiration.

Everyone in the Empire knew him as the youngest Swordmaster in history, and that title alone was enough to earn awe.

Vivian gave a small nod and turned to Charlotte.

With gentle movements, he helped her step into the carriage first before following behind her.

Today, Charlotte was wearing a white gown embroidered with a large red flower near the side.

Her hair was tied into a neat knot, with two soft strands falling along her forehead.

Every now and then, she would tuck them back behind her ear with the back of her hand.

She looked stunning, the calm confidence in her eyes and the slight, proud tilt of her chin made her beauty stand out even more.

Vivian, in contrast, was dressed simply.

He wore black pants and a loose white shirt tucked in neatly.

There was nothing fancy about his clothes, yet his presence was impossible to ignore.

Even in such plain attire, he carried a quiet strength and grace that made people turn their heads.

His posture was straight, his expression calm, and his eyes sharp, he didn’t need jewelry or armor to show who he was.

His very presence radiated majesty.

After they entered the carriage, Vivian closed the door and said calmly, "You can move now."

Hearing his words, the driver, dressed neatly in a butler’s outfit, pulled the reins.

The horses let out a sharp snort, two white clouds of breath escaping into the cold morning air before they began to move.

Behind the carriage, the royal escorts mounted their horses and followed in perfect formation.

Their armor shining under the sunlight.

As the carriage started rolling down the stone path, Vivian leaned back against the seat, letting out a quiet breath.

Charlotte also settled comfortably beside him, her gown brushing lightly against his arm.

"Has the dean already left for the conference?"

She asked after a moment.

She didn’t know much about what had been going on lately.

Ever since they returned from the dungeon, she hadn’t left Vivian’s room, not even once.

She had said she didn’t want to go back to her own room, claiming she felt uneasy without mana to protect herself.

So she stayed close to him, spending her days resting while he handled other matters.

Vivian gave a soft sigh and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "He left three days ago and has already reached the capital."

"He’s been preparing for the conference since then."

"So what do you plan to do?"

Charlotte asked, her eyes fixed on him, calm yet curious.

Vivian leaned back slightly, his gaze turning serious.

"Well," he began, "the evidence I collected should be enough to prove that there are forces, including House Tramplin, working against the Empire."

As he spoke, his mind drifted to the reports, secret letters, and testimonies he had gathered.

Every piece had been carefully chosen and checked again and again.

He had spent countless nights going through them, preparing for this very conference.

Still, he knew this wouldn’t be easy.

House Tramplin is one of the three great ducal houses of the Empire, powerful, rich, and deeply connected.

Proving them guilty of treason without a single flaw in his argument would be like walking on a blade’s edge.

Even though most of the Empire’s high officials trusted him, trust alone wouldn’t win in an official meeting.

In such halls, words mattered as much as swords, and even a low-ranking noble could twist the outcome with a clever argument.

That’s why he couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.

Every claim had to be supported by facts, every doubt crushed before it could spread.

He had to make sure that once the meeting began, nothing, and no one, could stop what he planned to reveal.

As those thoughts filled his mind, Vivian turned his gaze toward her and said quietly,

"Still, I have enough evidence to prove them guilty. Though that bastard Kafrik escaped, I’ve gathered proof even from the traces he left behind."

His voice was calm, but the moment he said Kafrik’s name, his eyes changed.

A storm of emotions flashed through them hatred, anger, disgust, and something else, something deeper.

It wasn’t rage or sadness.

It was anticipation, a strange spark that didn’t belong with the rest.

Charlotte noticed it immediately.

She had seen that same look before, back in the dungeon, right when Kafrik slipped away.

That same unsettling emotion had appeared in Vivian’s eyes then too.

It made her uneasy.

She couldn’t tell why, but that look didn’t feel right.

Vivian was calm on the surface, but there was something cold and distant beneath it, as if he was waiting for something that only he understood.

Finally, she spoke softly, her voice carrying a trace of worry.

"Vivian... why aren’t you angry that Kafrik escaped?"

"Huh?" Vivian looked genuinely startled by her question.

"Of course I’m angry that I couldn’t torture him like I had planned, but..."

He stopped midway, realizing it wasn’t something he should say in front of Charlotte.

He lowered his eyes for a moment.

In truth, anger wasn’t the only thing he felt.

Ever since he learned that Kafrik had disappeared, a darker, quieter thought had been living in the back of his mind.

One that he couldn’t quite explain, and didn’t want to.

It wasn’t rage or hatred anymore.

It was something far more unsettling, something he wasn’t ready to share.

Not wanting to continue down that path, he quickly forced a smile and changed the subject.

"So... where should we plan our engagement?"

He asked, scratching his cheek awkwardly.

The effect was instant.

Charlotte’s eyes lit up like stars.

"Now that you’ve reached the Swordmaster realm," she began excitedly,

"I’ll announce that I have no interest in the throne. I’ll support my second eldest brother, he’s not that bad, actually."

She leaned forward as she spoke, her voice lively again.

"Once that’s done, we can hold a grand engagement in the capital!"

She continued, "there will be music, flowers, and—"

She went on and on, painting the whole scene in her head with shining eyes.

Vivian just smiled quietly, watching her talk.

Moments like this made the heavy air around him feel lighter.

He couldn’t help but think how similar she was to his mother.

Both of them had this habit, whenever a topic touched something they loved, they’d forget everything else, completely lost in excitement.

And just like his father, Vivian had learned to use that weakness perfectly whenever he needed to dodge a question.

As he listened, that dark thought came back and would not leave.

He tried to push it away, but it grew louder in his mind.

A cold, sharp excitement filled him, not the kind that raged, but a quiet, cruel sort of joy.

The truth was simple and cruel: he did not feel only anger.

He knew Kafrik would want revenge.

He knew Kafrik would come for him sooner or later.

When that day came, Vivian thought, he would break Kafrik’s hope.

He would watch Kafrik lose all will to fight, and when nothing was left, he would make him suffer until death.

The idea made his chest feel tight and his hands go still.

As he kept listening, his face went very still and his eyes turned ice cold.

A hard thought came into his head:

’Before he can try again, I must end his whole bloodline.’

Only then could the full weight of despair settle upon his enemy, the knowledge that not only had he failed, but his vengeance was now impossible.

That failure, Vivian knew, would sting harder than death itself.