**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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As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over Mist Valley, the faint glow of twilight bathed the landscape in an otherworldly light.
Prince Lyxander rode at the forefront, his black stallion Marsh, moved with grace that mirrored the prince's own regal bearing.
Beside him, King Twilight Briarstyn, the venerable ruler of Mireworth, commanded a white steed.
The air was thick with mist, swirling around them like wraiths as they approached the grand gates of Mireworth Palace.
The palace loomed ahead, its dark marble walls shimmering faintly in the dim light. Torches lined the path, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows that seemed to come alive in the mist.
As they reached the entrance, the colossal statues of ancient kings and queens greeted them with silent, stoic gazes.
Lyxander could feel the weight of history pressing down upon him, the legacy of generations echoing through the air.
The gates, massive and intricately wrought, creaked open, revealing the grand courtyard within.
King Twilight dismounted first, his movements deliberate and imbued with the authority of his lineage.
His long, silver hair flowed behind him, catching the light of the torches and giving him an almost ethereal appearance.
He turned to Lyxander, his piercing blue eyes reflecting both wisdom and an unspoken burden.
"Welcome to Mireworth, Prince Lyxander," the king said, his voice deep and resonant.
"Our kingdom has awaited your arrival."
"Thank you so much, Your Highness, I've appreciate your warm welcome." Prince Lyxander responded with a small smile.
Lyxander dismounted gracefully, his boots making a soft thud against the cobblestone path.
He took a moment to absorb the sight before him. The courtyard was a breathtaking scene of lush gardens filled with exotic plants and vibrant flowers, their colors muted in the twilight.
The scent of jasmine and night-blooming cereus filled the air, a fragrant reminder of the palace's timeless beauty.
The fountain at the center of the courtyard gushed with crystal-clear water, its surface catching the flickering torchlight and reflecting it back in a kaleidoscope of colors.
Lyxander stepped closer, feeling a sense of peace wash over him as he listened to the gentle splashing of the water.
"You must be weary from your journey," King Twilight continued, his voice softer now.
"Rest tonight and regain your strength. Tomorrow, we will begin your training."
A steward appeared at the king's signal, bowing deeply before leading Lyxander through the palace's opulent halls.
