Jeim'Dal

CHAPTER 5 Her royal highness..

"Laiahnarah Prea of the Kingdom of Ngatilaan!" The herald's voice echoed through the grand hall, silencing the chatter of nobles and dignitaries. All eyes turned toward the entrance as a young woman, radiant in her beauty and grace, entered. Laiahnarah moved with the elegance of royalty, her flowing gown shimmering with intricate golden embroidery, each step as deliberate as a dance. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, framing her serene, regal features.

Trailing behind her were her maidens, each carrying a finely wrought chest, their faces calm and poised. At the rear of her retinue walked a towering figure—a broad-shouldered man in polished armor, his stern expression marking him as one of her kingdom's finest warriors.

As Laiahnarah advanced, the hall fell into a hush, the majesty of her presence captivating all who beheld her. The grand hall of Abira Aayad was resplendent, its towering pillars adorned with shimmering silks and banners, the scent of exotic perfumes wafting through the air. Candles flickered along the walls, casting soft light upon the lavish banquet tables overflowing with delicacies from across the realm. This was no ordinary night—it was the Namesake Day of Nabyr, a grand celebration in honor of one of the most influential high lords of the land.

Abira Aayad was renowned throughout the empire for its festivals and grand events, the wealth of its noble houses on full display at every occasion. And tonight, the city did not disappoint. Nobles from every corner of the realm had gathered, adorned in their finest silks and jewels, eager to partake in the extravagance that Abira Aayad was known for. Even the most prestigious families were present, their presence a testament to the importance of Lord Nabyr's celebration.

Yet, despite the splendor, not all were pleased by Laiahnarah's arrival.

As she passed through the hall, a pair of nobles exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes narrowing as they watched her.

"Isn't the Kingdom of Ngatilaan the one that once warred with La Paz?" one noblewoman murmured, her lips curling in distaste.

"Indeed," replied another, his voice low but sharp. "They sought to seize our lands. To think she would dare show her face here."

The murmurs spread, their disdain palpable beneath the hall's glittering surface. The Kingdom of Ngatilaan's past attempts to encroach upon La Paz were not easily forgotten, and for some, the presence of Laiahnarah was a reminder of old wounds yet to heal.

Still, Laiahnarah remained composed, her expression calm as she continued her graceful walk toward the high table, where Lord Nabyr awaited. She carried herself with an air of unshakable dignity, ignoring the whispers that clung to her like a shadow.

The grandeur of the evening was unmistakable. Lord Nabyr of Abira Aayad, the honored host, stood at the center of the festivities, his wealth and influence unmatched by any but the royal family itself. His high status was reflected in the splendor of the hall and the richness of the celebrations. Known for his love of opulence, Nabyr had spared no expense in making this night unforgettable. The finest musicians played in the background, and goblets of the rarest wines were passed freely among the guests. Abira Aayad, famed for its lavish festivals, was once again the heart of the realm's grandeur.

Among the distinguished guests stood Prince Lyrad, the brother of Prince Luxian, and Prince Arthur, a dashing young man with flowing hair and striking features. Yet, despite his noble appearance, Prince Arthur's reputation for indulgence was evident—his eyes were glassy, and the stench of wine clung to him as he swayed, a goblet perpetually in hand.