Sustaining The King's Life 64 Welcome To The Capital!

"Nervous?" Lucas asks as he smiles, ruffling Faustina's hair. "n.o.bles in the capital may mistake you for someone from Verteidigerin, but since you are in Feuersturm, they'll immediately know whose house you belong to."

"Won't they be suspicious because I've been hidden for so long?" A downcast stare. "Brother,"

"What are you talking about?" Lucas smiles, tilting his head. "You are a Feuerlon, Faustina," he then moved his hand away from the top of her grey locks. "Who would dare to insult the dukedom?"

Faustina simply stared, as they strolled towards the outskirts. Children were eating meat and mixed vegetables on sticks, civilians chatting around the stalls, and some mages buying potions around the corner.

"It's lively in here..." Maddie says, clearly amazed.

"Is it?" Orwell asks, "It's going to be livelier inside the capital."

**

Inside the capital beamed a lot of colors—music from instruments Faustina never knew existed, even livelier stalls—it was as if there was a festival taking place around the city. Unlike the outskirts, the capital brimmed with thousands of colors Faustina can never describe—they were different from the history book she knew—on the surface, the capital was a lot more beautiful in its own being. Music, the lingering smell of food, the happy chatters of people; this was Feuer Capital in its entirety.

"We will be staying in an inn reserved to us by Father," Lucas exclaims as they walk through the crowd. "The inn is exclusive for the n.o.bility, so it will provide you the greatest comfort from our journey, Sister."

Faustina nodded as she continued to look around. And then as they sauntered towards the cobblestone paths, she realized that there are people's eyes fixated upon her company—no, they were looking at her. The first thing she noticed is their hair color: mud-colored green hair, some with red and a dirty yellow—the plebeians, or the common folk; and then from another spectrum are people with glossy hair, fair-skinned, and attire that spoke of grandeur—the n.o.bility. Both eyed her with fascination and the look of confusion, then as they pa.s.sed more of the straight path they were taking, the attention seemed to s.h.i.+ft more towards them.

Their eyes were inquisitive—asking, probing, taunting. The n.o.bility's gazes were looking down at her as if they KNEW something, but they kept a smile on their faces. The commoners, on the other hand, were a lot more honest in Orwell's opinion. He instantaneously noticed the gazes laid upon them even on the outskirts of the capital. Not only the son of Duke Feuerlon was here, but he was also a Lotheringwood—a quite popular mage in his opinion. Moreover, there is a single ent.i.ty that may have caught their interest; like a diamond surrounded by gems.

Faustina.

"Look at her grey hair," whispers one. "She's with duke Feuerlon's son, too..."

"Is that Orwell Lotheringwood?"

"The two rivals of Magierstadt, together?"

"Who's that girl?"

"Her hair... doesn't that ring any bell?"

"What do you mean?"

"The same traits as the d.u.c.h.ess!"

"Then she's..."

Faustina bit her lips.

"Relax," Lucas whispers. "Smile, little sister. You have to be confident. You haven't even gotten your debutante, it's normal, people would be confused why you got out to society too early."

"H-huh?"

"I know you're nervous. You never attended tea parties because you are too fragile and sickly, and now you came out to society before you eighteenth; that would be a surprise to people, of course."

Faustina slowly nodded. The n.o.bility had a tradition of having n.o.ble children interact with each other at gatherings and parties at the age of five and so on and forth, and then at their eighteenth, their 'debutante,' they would come out to social parties, b.a.l.l.s and official gatherings of n.o.bles. In the altered memory, Faustina could not attend the tea parties due to her bad health. That was the 'excuse' they came up with—and she could not even discern the possibilities of people finding out it was just a trick.

Orwell explained to her that the spell would also take effect to those whom she interacts with—they would get a familiar feeling around her, and that would let their guard down; the spell would trick the people to believe that she was indeed a Feuerlon daughter with a sick body—she doesn't understand an ounce how it works, but indeed it does to the majority of the population.

Except for the ones with powerful mana.

Faustine slipped her hand through her pocket, feeling the necklace slither through her fingers. She also has a duty to do here in the capital. The duke told her that the man named 'Orwell' was already informed beforehand and would meet her in a popular restaurant in the town. She was told to go with Lucas to the restaurant with the guise of touring her.

'the meeting place would not be inside the restaurant.' says the duke. 'you will be led to him; he is a trustworthy fellow.'

"We will be having dinner alone." Says Lucas as they kept on walking. "Hear that, Lotheringwood?"

"Yes, yes," Orwell says. "I have a few things to buy near the capital anyways. Take your time later, 'big brother'."

"You..."

"Oh, we're here!" Orwell says.

Faustina lifted her gaze and saw an enormous building, unlike any others, inside the large gates made from a fence embedded with intricate patterns and beautiful structure. The building alone told of how it was different from the inns around it, and from the carriages in front of its gate went down people wearing dresses with a conspicuous grandeur.

"This is the Feuer Manor." Lucas says, "this is the inn where we'll be staying."
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Faustine gawked in amazement.

"This will be a lot peaceful than being in a s.h.i.+p with those rocky waves!" Maddie says, intertwining her hand together.

"That's right," Orwell exclaims, smiling. "How I missed a peaceful rest."

If only there would be a 'peaceful rest' going to happen later that night.