Reincarnation: Beyond Mortal Bounds.

Chapter 11: The Burden Of A Title.



The soft glow of the moon cast a serene ambiance over the room as Vaelorian emerged from the bathroom, his hair still damp from the shower. The droplets of water glistened on his skin, and the faint scent of soap wafted through the air, a reminder of his long refreshing shower. He was ready to call it a night, but before he did, he had one last thing to do–say goodnight to Riven.

As he approached Riven's bed, he couldn't help but smile. Riven looked peaceful, his face relaxed in sleep, his chest rising and falling with each gentle breath. The soft light from the window highlighted the contours of his face, and Vaelorian's eyes lingered on the gentle curve of his lips. It was hard to believe this was the same boy who cussed and caused chaos during the day, always pushing boundaries and testing limits.

Vaelorian's favorite part of the day was this quiet moment, watching Riven sleep after a long day of classes and training. Something was soothing about the peaceful atmosphere, and Vaelorian felt a sense of calm wash over him as he gazed at Riven's serene face.

"I wish I could just bottle this peaceful version of you up," Vaelorian mused quietly, a soft smile gracing his lips. "If only you knew how different you look when you're not busy testing everyone's patience."

Just as he was about to whisper a gentle goodnight, Vaelorian's mind was probed by a familiar presence.

"Speak!" he commanded, his voice calm but authoritative, echoing through the mental connection.

"Apologies for reporting late, Your Highness," a voice replied, the tone respectful and measured. "The gathering took longer than expected."

It was Sir Eryndor, his most trusted right-hand man and friend. The fact that Eryndor was directly outside his room door, reporting in the dead of night, meant that whatever news he brought was of utmost importance.

"How did it go?" Vaelorian asked, his mind racing with possibilities, his eyes never leaving Riven's face.

"The issue of people disappearing has become more serious and..." Eryndor hesitated, his voice trailing off.

"Say it, Eryndor!" Vaelorian prompted, his tone firm, brooking no hesitation.

"They also brought up the topic of marriage."

"Marriage? Whose?" Vaelorian's pulse quickened.

"Yours, your highness."

Vaelorian's eyes narrowed, his gaze still fixed on Riven. He had expected this, but not so soon. The Great Houses will do anything to secure alliances and gain more power and it just so happens that they've decided to use his marriage this time.

"And what was the conclusion?"

"Nothing is set in stone yet, Your Highness."

That was the worst answer he could have hoped for but still Vaelorian nodded to himself, his mind working overtime. He would need to do something about this.

"Very well, I'll write to my father. And Eryndor?"

"Yes, your Highness?"

"Let's look into this recent disappearance. We've taken the back seat on this issue long enough."

"Understood, My Prince."

"Good night, Eryndor."

"Good night, Your Highness."

As Vaelorian ended the mental connection, he couldn't help but think about the implications of Eryndor's words. Marriage was a topic he had been dreading, and now it seemed it was being pushed to the forefront. The Great Houses would want him to marry one of the young ladies from their clans, securing alliances and strengthening ties. The power struggle never ends.

Vaelorian's gaze fell on Riven, who was still fast asleep. He smiled, stroking the younger boy's hair gently, his fingers tangling in the soft strands.

"Sweet dreams," he whispered, before bending down to kiss Riven's forehead.

For a moment, Vaelorian forgot about the weight of his responsibilities and the expectations that came with being a prince. All that mattered was the peaceful boy lying before him, the soft glow of the moon casting a serene ambiance over the room.

As he turned in for the night, Vaelorian couldn't shake off the feeling that his life was about to become even more complicated. The issue of people disappearing, the topic of his marriage–his life is about to get very busy.

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The Next Day...

The morning sun casts a warm, golden glow over the sprawling grounds of the camp, its rays dancing lazily across the ancient stone pathways. The air was thick with the scent of blooming wildflowers and the distant hum of excited chatter from fellow campers.

Somewhere nearby, the loud clang of armor and the rhythmic thud of training drills echoed, blending into the lively symphony of the day. Everything seemed perfect, at least for those who woke up on time. Riven didn't and he was late!

So fucking late!

It's actually amazing how fast this screwy body can run. With tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead from running, he skidded to a halt just outside the classroom, catching his breath before pushing the door open.

The history teacher. Ms. Thorne, a stern-looking woman with piercing eyes and a sharp temper, looked up from her parchment with a sly smile that immediately made the other campers burst into laughter. Her voice dripped with mockery as she said.

"Lord Riven, nice of you to grace us with your presence. You almost made it on time today."

"This bitch!"

Riven cursed inwardly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He quickly bowed his head, muttering an apology as he scrambled to find his seat among the laughing campers.

His heart pounded, partly from haste and partly from the acute embarrassment of being late—again. He couldn't afford to draw attention, especially knowing Vaelorian would have a field day scolding him about punctuality. He'll just let this one slide.

Riven knocked over someone's pencil case as he tried to get to the empty seat at the back. He muttered a quiet apology before sitting down, and his eyes widened when he saw who was sitting beside him. It was Anya! The girl's eyes sparkled with mischief—she leaned in close, her whisper barely more than a breath.

"What a coincidence seeing you here, Riven. I didn't think you took this class," she whispered, not at all surprised to see him.

Before Riven could respond, the teacher cleared her throat sharply, commanding the room's attention with her poised presence. Her gaze swept over the students, sharp as a blade, before settling on Anya with a stern look.

"Lady Anya," she began, her tone smooth but edged with authority, "what makes Lumina different from other empires? Since you're so keen on talking during class."

Anya smiled sheepishly, cheeks tinted, embarrassed she'd been caught talking during class, but she straightened up and started speaking.

"Lumina is the only empire with the highest number of gifted individuals. We're not persecuted for using our gifts—and it's divided into four great houses, each responsible for overseeing different aspects of the empire's affairs."

A ripple of admiration spread through the students, and Ms. Thorne nodded approvingly.

"Atta girl!" Riven thought proudly of his new friend.

"That's correct, Lady Anya," she said, her tone warm but commanding. "And why the great houses?"

Anya's face lit up as she responded confidently, "The great houses act as links between the leader and the people—they're the bridges that keep Lumina united and strong."

A proud smile crossed Ms. Thorne's face.

"Excellent! That's exactly right. And why do you think the great houses are so important?" she pressed, her gaze flickering between the students, lingering briefly on Riven.

Anya hesitated for a moment, then answered thoughtfully, "Because they help the leader understand the needs of the people and make sure everyone's voice is heard."

The teacher clapped her hands softly.

"Exactly! Well done, Lady Anya. You should consider making friends with people who actually love learning like you do." Her tone was light, but her eyes carried a flicker of something more.

Riven caught the subtle glance she cast in his direction before she turned her attention back to the class.

"This bitch is throwing shades at me, isn't she?" He thought, glancing at Anya discreetly with a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth and she giggled quietly beside him. Her playful nature is quite relaxing, definitely not like a certain person's own.

Riven looked around the classroom filled with faces eager to learn, while outside the window, towering trees swayed gently in the breeze. Somehow, he felt a strange sense of belonging. It was an unfamiliar sensation. In his past life, he had often skipped classes, and eventually, the very thought of school became unbearable, leading him to drop out altogether.

Could things have turned out differently for him if stronger hands had guided him?


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