Chapter 2

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Tensions shed off the atmosphere clouded in a mist of anxiety, like skin off of a decrepit and pathetic corpse.

Roran kept his reservations about the Cedano Family; thinking of them as nothing more than corrupted shadows of authority that maintained a firm grasp on the Intergalactic Trading Union. They were dressed in their fancy, high-end clothing of beige and turquoise. 

Behind their group of around thirty or forty men there stood a pair of royal guards holding their house flags proudly in the air. Deep purple flags displayed a turquoise-colored emblem in the shape of a bird at their centers, a bird trapped in a bronze rhombus yet stretched out its enormous wings all the same. 

Roran always found it to be a fitting house crest as it was emblematic of their rather intrepid, no, arrogant way of thinking. Like most nobles and royals, they had fallen victim to the disease known quite plainly as hubris. From their perspective, no one, not even the All-Mother with her infinite amount of wisdom and radiance could control or restrain them.

That being said, Roran wasn't a fool. There was a very good reason they remained an affluent member of the 12 Great Families of the Galaxy. The sheer amount of power and influence they possessed was overwhelming. They had the ability to purchase entire planets if they so pleased. That being said, however, the Stormlight and Cedano Families were relatively considered to be equals. 

As such, an uneasy truce was formed between the pairing factions. Just because they were technically on the same side didn't mean they were inclined to like each other. Even so, a war between Great Families would wield catastrophic repercussions, even for the victor. Whatever happened, war was the absolute last outcome that could be allowed to exist. So if it meant they had to appease the clan of blustering royals then so be it.

Roran kept his head plastered ahead, attempting to avoid eye contact with the Cedanos as he hastily strutted past them pretending not to notice or hear their judgemental looks and snarky comments. However, in doing so, Roran inadvertently established a solid stare with that of his father. It was hard to tell what that man was thinking, Orion was an enigma in every sense of the word.

The prince climbed the steps leading up to the throne and joined the king and queen, plumping down onto his throne chair. He hoped nobody would address the awkward manner in which he talked nor his shivering disposition, but Queen Cerra failed to grant him the privilege of obscurity. 

"Are you alright, my sprout?", she asked, her silky voice having been infected by concern. 

Cerra was the most beautiful woman in the Proioxis Galaxy, he reckoned. A head of long, flowing brown hair, a sparkling pair of emeralds for eyes, creamy skin void of blemishes or scars, and a voice that could calm the wildest seas or the most monstrous hurricanes. Yes, she was a fair and kind queen who deserved the respect of everyone in the domain. It was this extraordinary woman Roran was honored to call his mother.

"Worry not, Queen Cerra," Roran replied, forging an artificial smile. "I'm as fine as could be."

She sighed in relief. "That's good. Though, in the future, I do wish you'd inform us of when you wish to leave the palace. I would've had Garreth and his men accompany you. Can't have my son wandering around by his lonesome, what with all the dangers our home planet fosters."

Orion disregarded her concerns with a wave of the hand. "Roran isn't as feeble as other royals his age, My Queen. I'm just glad he showed up at all."

"Why wouldn't I, King Orion?"

"These conventions have consistently failed to hold your interest."

Roran slumped in his seat. "That was when I was younger. I can recognize their importance now, my king. I assure you."

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