**WARNING!** Heavy use of language and violence is present. Some scenes may not be suitable for younger readers.
This book, "Regal Rift," is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidenta...
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The grand celebration of Prince Lyxander's birthday had finally arrived, and the castle of Eldoria was bustling with activity.
People from every corner of the kingdom, and even from allied lands, had gathered to partake in the festivities.
The sun shone brightly in the azure sky, casting a warm glow over the vibrant banners and flowers that adorned the castle's walls.
The main courtyard was a scene of organized chaos, with soldiers standing at attention, their polished armor reflecting the midday sun.
Guards were stationed at every entrance, their eyes scanning the crowd with vigilance, ensuring the safety of the royal family and the legendary Eldorian Sword.
Inside the castle, servants moved with practiced efficiency, balancing trays of exquisite food and drink, ensuring that every guest was attended to.
The air was filled with the aromas of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and the sweet scent of exotic fruits. Musicians played cheerful tunes, adding to the celebratory atmosphere.
The grand hall was the heart of the celebration, a vast room adorned with the finest decorations.
Rich tapestries depicting Eldoria's history hung from the walls, and the floor was covered with lush, deep-red carpets.
A magnificent chandelier, studded with crystals, hung from the ceiling, casting a dazzling light over the assembled guests.
As the crowd gathered, a hush fell over the hall. All eyes turned to the grand double doors at the far end, which slowly began to open.
A fanfare of trumpets announced the arrival of Prince Lyxander, their triumphant notes echoing through the hall.
The doors swung wide, revealing the prince standing tall and regal. He was dressed in ceremonial attire, a deep blue tunic adorned with gold embroidery, and a cloak that flowed behind him like a river of midnight.
Beside him stood his personal guard, Rhys Shaw, a steadfast and dependable presence who had been at his side through countless days. Flanked by an honor guard of the kingdom's finest knights, Lyxander stepped forward, his presence commanding the room.
The crowd erupted in applause, cheers ringing out as Lyxander made his way down the long aisle towards the raised platform at the center of the hall.
The knights fell into step behind him, their armor clinking rhythmically, adding to the grandeur of the moment.
King Eirian, resplendent in his regal attire, stood on the platform with Queen Lyzandra by his side.
Their faces beamed with pride as they watched their son approach. The king raised his hand, signaling for silence.
The crowd fell silent, anticipation hanging in the air like a palpable force.
"Esteemed guests, friends, and family," King Eirian's voice boomed through the hall,
