The Prince in Question Is Not Stable

Chapter 75: Bereft of Utterance.

The heavy doors clicked open once more, releasing the low rhythm of music and murmur of the hall back into the private chamber like a tide returning.

Marcus followed Cassian at a steady pace as they both rose on the podium. Cassian adjusted the golden trim of his royal suit and his spectacles.

The grand piano’s melody faltered. Every head in the banquet hall turned again, and silence followed.

Cassian raised a hand. "My honoured guests," he spoke.

"I present to you once more than a man whose name has echoed through every court, academy, house, military, and field these past months."

"A man who with his wits, with his guts, and the lessons of life, turned to become a better human, an honest soul, a malevolent warrior."

"The man of this fine day, and the evening, for whose honour this banquet has brought every one of you within the Royal Palace of Celesties,"

"Count Marcus Rile, of the Riles. A guest the kingdom is privileged to call its own."

A polite ripple of applause followed, though Marcus noted the varying enthusiasm with a slight nod.

Crisp and genuine applause from the eastern tables where several academy mages sat, measured clusters from the merchant lords near the wine fountains, and mechanical from the western wing where Duke Mordrak’s former allies lingered.

"For those who stand witness within these walls, Crown not only offers its thanks to Marcus Rile. It offers an alliance, an alliance where Marcus will have privileges and status of a Clearance six, i.e., the first ever Transcendent Warrior this Kingdom has birthed."

’...’ Marcus furrowed his brows and looked at Cassian.

’This wasn’t in the script,’ he thought.

A collective murmur started in the room. Chairs scraped, noblewomen dropped their fans, merchants were wide-eyed while Dukes...just nodded.

Cassian just indirectly declared that he doesn’t care about the official tests, and there is no need to proceed with any. The man standing in front of them is now officially a Transcendent Warrior and has power equivalent to one.

Even though Marcus still had that power, but that power wasn’t officially recognized throughout the institutions.

Murmurs lingered for a few breaths before settling into controlled conversations, Marcus didn’t think much of it, he neither accepted nor resisted the attention.

He stepped down from the podium, and Cassian did not stop in. Graves quietly placed himself beside Marcus, as Marcus took a glass of wine from the approaching servant.

He kept walking till he was further near the centre staircase.

The first approach came from a noblewoman.

Her steps were delicate, posture exaggerated, she wore a deep blue gown, embroidered at the sleeves. She inclined her head to meet Marcus’s eyes.

"Count Rile," she said. "I had hoped to meet you this evening."

Marcus looked at her, briefly.

"Then, I guess, you’ve succeeded," he replied.

She smiled faintly at that, accepting the tone without pushing against it, thought she did expect some courtesy.

"My family has interests along the eastern routes, trade has been ... less predictable these past months," She continued.

"Hmm..." Marcus took a small sip of the wine before answering.

"Then you should hire new analysts, I don’t intent to offer my advice to every person I encounter," Marcus replied.

"Oh, and...for business talks," he then pointed at Graves, and Graves waved his hand. "He’s the man,"

The woman held her smile, still processing what he had just said.

There was a...pause in her thoughts. Her fingers tightened slightly around her fan, though her posture did not falter.

She had expected resistance, perhaps indifference, but not dismissal delivered this plainly.

"I see," she said, but with slight growling expression.

"..." Marcus didn’t know what he said wrong, she didn’t seem strategic type to him, and he didn’t want to be a teacher for the day. Even though, he was a professor.

He didn’t follow her departure.

A younger lord, who had been preparing to approach, slowed his steps, and turned around without a thought as his confidence wavered.

A pair of noblewomen near the wine table lowered their voices mid-conversation, eyes flickering toward Marcus before quickly returning to their own discussion. One of them even hid a faint smile behind her palm, the other looked mildly displeased.

"Uhm..." Graves approached.

"Maybe you should try to be more passive," he suggested.

"Even you?" Marcus looked at Graves. "This seems like an Et tu brutus situation,"

"I don’t quite catch the reference, Professor, but indeed." Graves replied.

Marcus took another sip of his wine.

The next man approached with more care.

He was older, his hair had the faint touch of grey, his expression was calm. Unlike the previous ones, he did not open with an exaggerated smile.

"Count Rile, it’s an honour," he said, stopping at an appropriate distance. "Your reputation seems to match the reports."

Marcus nodded, glancing at him.

He expected some words...but little did he know, Marcus too, expected him to continue.

After a short moment of silence the man began, again.

"My daughter," the man continued, gesturing slightly behind him, "has taken an interest in the academy, I was wondering-"

"Then enroll her," Marcus said, cutting through the sentence.

"I was referring to a more...guided introduction," he said.

"If your daughter qualifies, she’ll definitely be able to enroll, the academy doesn’t enroll on introductions, it runs on merit, I hope you understand that," Marcus said.

The man studied him for a brief seond, smiled, and then nodded once.

"Understood."

He stepped back without pressing further.

Another figure approached, this time, the intent was clear to Marcus even before he heard them.

A noblewoman, older, confident, draped in dark crimson. She didn’t stop at a distance, she stepped closer than the others had dared, and that made Marcus recline his head back a little.

"Count Rile," she said, her voice was smooth. "I’ve heard you remain...unattached."

"..."

"..."

The room around him turned...intense.

’Attached? What do you mean attached? Am I a document?’ he thought.

"That...I’m not sure," He replied, and this time, it was him who wasn’t confident.

He remembered the letter written by Violet a week ago, and that made him more nervous.