The stately progress of the imperial carriage continues deeper into the heart of the Eldrath Capital. The transition from the outskirts to the inner city is marked by a sudden, intense surge in sensory experience. The stone-paved road now funnels through dense, vibrant neighborhoods, where thousands of common folk are pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, held back only by the disciplined, uniformed barrier of Eldrath soldiers. This is the true spectacle of the diplomatic visit. As the ornate, gold-trimmed carriage rolls past, the air fills immediately with a cacophony of cheering, shouting, and excitement. They're here to witness the arrival of the Crown Prince of the Great Empire, a figure of tremendous, almost mythical status. For the protagonist, who'd spent years in self-imposed social exile, cut off from human approval, this sudden, overwhelming wave of adoration is intoxicating. He's the focal point of a massive, public celebration, and he finds himself loving every single ounce of it, the sheer, unearned validation washing over him with potent satisfaction.
The convoy finally comes to a profound, ceremonial stop in the vast, echoing plaza directly before the Main Court of Eldrath, a building whose majesty speaks of centuries of power and tradition. Before the door is even fully opened, Mikhail takes a conscious moment, using the carriage as his dressing chamber. He first addresses his armament, securing the sword belt not in the standard fashion but adopting a more striking and practical style: the scabbard runs diagonally across his back, positioning the hilt over his left shoulder for a swift, cross-body draw. He then completes the look, dramatically draping his long, exquisitely tailored imperial jacket over one shoulder, letting it fall like a regal cape.
With a final, controlled breath, Vice Commander Hilowat opens the carriage door, and Mikhail steps out onto the polished stones. The sheer noise of the assembled crowd is deafening. He turns slowly toward the mass of faces, absorbing their admiration, and with a confident, effortless gesture, raises a single fist high into the air. The reaction is instantaneous and electric—the crowd erupts into a fresh, unified wave of ecstatic cheering that seems to shake the very ground.
After savoring the moment, he turns his back on the crowd and focuses on the monumental structure before him—a sweeping set of long, ceremonial stairs leading up to enormous, double-winged doors that stand wide open, beckoning him into the supreme governing building. He ascends the steps with a practiced, commanding stride, embodying the presence of the powerful heir.
The Eldrath Court is a breathtaking vision of luxurious tradition, its high ceilings supported by intricately painted pillars, its floor covered in rich, woven tapestries. As he moves through the hall, his gaze is drawn to the central figure awaiting his arrival: Queen Yuehua of Eldrath. She's a woman of regal bearing and undeniable authority. As he approaches, she performs the customary diplomatic greeting, joining her hands together in a sign of deep respect and bowing her head. "Welcome to our Kingdom, Honored Prince Mikhail."
Mikhail knows the power dynamics here. The Empire is stronger, and his diplomatic mission is crucial. He steps forward quickly, moving to prevent her full obeisance, gently taking her hand to raise her back up. His tone is smooth, respectful, and perfectly calibrated. "You shouldn't bow to me, Your Majesty. It is I who am honored. I am truly happy to be welcomed by you." He knows this small, public act of humility will be instantly perceived as profound courtesy and respect, further cementing his image as the good prince.
As he looks around, the various court members and ministers lining the hall follow the Queen's lead, performing deep, formal bows. He simply returns their deference with a series of measured, royal nods—a silent acknowledgment that's both gracious and suitably distant.
The pomp and circumstance of the official greeting eventually gives way to the practical necessities of diplomacy. A little while later, a grand dinner banquet is set in a lavish dining hall. The seating is deliberately intimate, reflecting the high-stakes nature of the union. Seated at the central table are the Queen, Prince Mikhail, a few key Eldrath ministers, and, most importantly, Princess Meilin. Flanking Mikhail, silent and imposing, is the ever-present figure of Vice Commander Hilowat, a constant, comforting reminder of his Empire's military reach and his own security.
Mikhail finally has his first true view of his future bride and the woman at the center of the game's famous conflict.