The commander's sudden shift in demeanor drew Dae's attention immediately. He watched as the rigid soldier bowed low, stepping back to clear the path.

  The new arrival moved her horse forward with a calm, practiced grace. She wore a heavy travel cloak, the fabric dark and dusted from the road, concealing her frame. But the way she sat in the saddle—posture straight, head held high, movements efficient—triggered a flicker of recognition in Dae's mind.

  He narrowed his eyes slightly.

  Wait.

  He had seen that posture before. Only three days ago. In the crowded courtyard of the roadside inn.

  The rider stopped a few paces from the front of the Demon Riders' formation. The wind tugged at the edges of her cloak. Slowly, she raised a hand—slender, pale fingers gripping the edge of her hood.

  With a smooth motion, she pulled it back.

  Dae felt a jolt of surprise, though he kept his face frozen in bored indifference.

  Cascades of Black hair spilled out, catching the sunlight. But it was her face that held his gaze. Her skin was flawless, a stark cream-white that stood out against the dark fabric of her cloak. Her features were sharp, delicate, and undeniably noble.

  And there, framing her face, were the ears.

  Not rounded like a normal demon's.

  They were long, tapering to elegant, sharp points that swept backward through her hair. The glimpse he'd caught at the inn hadn't been a trick of the light.

  Elves?

  He frantically rifled through the memories he had inherited from the original Dae Silver. He searched for anything—history lessons, geography, biology of the various demon races.

  Nothing.

  According to every scrap of knowledge stuck in his brain, elves did not exist in this world. There were demons, beasts, and monsters. That was it.

  And demons... demons didn't look like this. They had horns, like his sister Valeraine, or tails, or massive, hulking frames. Their ears might be slightly pointed or jagged, but they didn't have these elegant, leaf-shaped ears that screamed "high fantasy elf."

  He looked at the curve of her jaw, the cream-white skin, and those distinct, tapering ears framing her face.

  Is there information missing? he wondered, a spike of unease hitting him. Did the original prince sleep through biology class too? Or is she... something else entirely?

  Maybe a mutation? A specific trait of some bloodline? Or were "elves" just a sub-species of demons here that no one bothered to classify separately?

  The woman didn't seem to notice his internal crisis. She adjusted her reins with one hand and then, with a fluidity that spoke of high-court training, she bowed in the saddle.

  It wasn't the rigid, fearful bow of a soldier, nor the desperate scraping of a servant. It was precise. elegant.

  "Greetings, Your Highness," she said, her voice smooth and carrying a calm confidence that matched her gaze. "Welcome to Aurial."

  She straightened, her blueish eyes meeting his silver ones without flinching.

  "I am Elara Bealor," she introduced herself, her tone steady. "Eldest daughter of House Bealor."

  Dae stared at her for a fraction of a second too long, his gaze lingering on the tips of those long, elegant ears before snapping back to her eyes.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  House Bealor.

  The name echoed in his mind, The Masters of Space. The Gatekeepers. One of the Six Great Noble Families.

  But do they all look like this?

  He forced his brain to scan the archives of his memories again. He saw sigils, maps, political alliances… but no faces. The original Dae had cared didn't care much about the power and status.

  He probably knew the Bealors were important, but he had never bothered to memorize their biology.

  So, is this normal? he wondered, a headache forming behind his eyes. Is the Bealor bloodline just… elves? Or is she a special case? A mutation?

  It didn't make sense. In a world of horns, scales, and tails, she looked dangerously… human. Aside from the ears and the supernatural stillness of her posture, she could have walked out of a fantasy novel from Earth.

  Externally, however, he didn't twitch. He just gave a slow, languid nod.

  "Lady Bealor," he said, his voice flat. "Lead the way."

  Elara bowed her head again, then turned her horse with a subtle shift of her weight. She gestured to the commander, who immediately barked an order. The massive iron-and-stone gates groaned, the sound echoing like thunder as they began to swing inward.

  "This way, Your Highness."

  She didn't ride ahead like a servant guide. Instead, she fell into pace right beside him, her horse moving in perfect sync with his.

  It was a bold move. Servants rode behind. Guards rode on the flank. Only equals rode side-by-side. She was subtly asserting her status—reminding him that while he was royalty, she was a Bealor in her own city.

  As they passed through the massive archway and into the city proper, the noise of the outside world vanished, replaced by the grand, echoing hum of Aurial. The streets were wide, paved with white stone that gleamed under the afternoon sun.

  But Dae barely noticed the architecture. He was too busy trying not to react to the woman riding next to him.

  Up close, the difference was even more jarring. She didn't wear the heavy perfumes the court ladies in the capital drenched themselves in—scents meant to mask the smell of sulfur or ash that clung to some demon lineages. No, she smelled… clean.

  A light breeze shifted her hair, carrying a scent toward him that was soft and undeniably natural. It reminded him of fresh rain on pine needles, or wild honey. It was subtle, disarming, and completely at odds with the jagged, aggressive aesthetic of the demon world he'd seen so far.

  "I must admit, Your Highness," Elara spoke suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was low, smooth as silk, with a melodic cadence that made even simple words sound like poetry. "We were surprised to receive word of your arrival."

  Dae kept his eyes forward, watching the white stone road mixed with black. "Is that so?"

  "It is," she said, turning her head slightly to study his profile. Her eyes were sharp, intelligent.

  "The rumors from the capital are… quite specific. They say Prince Dae Silver rarely leaves the comfort of the Capital. That he finds the outside world… tedious."

  There was a hidden edge to her words. She wasn't just making small talk. She was probing. She had heard he was a spoiled, lazy brat who never left his room, and now here he was, riding at the head of an elite army, looking bored but surprisingly competent in the saddle.

  Dae felt the trap in the question. If he denied it, he looked defensive. If he agreed, he looked weak.

  He let out a short, dismissive breath—a sound of pure arrogance.

  "Rumors," he said, keeping his voice bored. "People love to talk about what they don't understand."

  He turned his head slowly to look at her, locking eyes with the elf—or whatever she was.

  "Perhaps I just decided the view from the Capital was getting stale," he lied smoothly. "Or perhaps I wanted to see if the border was as dangerous as everyone claims."

  Elara held his gaze for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, the corner of her lip quirked upward.

  "Dangerous," she repeated softly. "Yes. It certainly is that."

  She looked away, her gaze drifting toward the distant towers of the city center.

  "Though I suppose," she added, her voice dropping to a murmur that was almost too soft to hear, "danger is a relative concept for someone of your… reputation."

  The steady rhythm of hooves on white stone echoed off the surrounding buildings. The deeper they moved into Aurial, the more the city revealed its grandeur. it was a masterpiece of architecture, blending the natural curve of living wood with cold, pristine stone.

  Elara kept her mount perfectly aligned with his, her posture never wavering.

  "We have prepared the East Wing of the Bealor Mansion for your stay, Your Highness," she said, her voice cutting through the ambient noise of the city. "It is secluded, well-guarded, and offers the best view of the city, should you wish to observe it."

  Dae nodded once, barely acknowledging the gesture. "Adequate."

  "Furthermore," Elara continued, turning slightly in her saddle to face him. "My father, Lord Bealor, is currently attending to the something, but he will return by evening. We would be honored if you joined us for a private dinner tonight. It would be… beneficial for us to become better acquainted before we discuss the border strategy."

  Dae's internal alarm bells rang.

  Private dinner. Getting acquainted. Nighttime.

  He glanced at her sideways. The wind was playing with her dark hair again, and those Blueish eyes were fixed on him with an intensity that felt less like political strategy and more like… something else.

  Is she hitting on me?