Raised From The Wild-Chapter 401: The Victory Banquet
October unfolded as a whirlwind of activity for Princess Amaya. The shocking revelation of her royal parentage sent electrifying ripples through the kingdom, transforming her into an overnight sensation and the focus of countless conversations and speculations. As the news swept through the cobblestone streets of Lireya, it captivated the hearts and minds of its citizens, momentarily eclipsing the shadow of the pandemic that had loomed over them for the past few weeks.
The Lireyans got back on their feet and returned to normal life while continuing to grapple with the truth that the palace revealed.
Meanwhile, the palace came alive with anticipation as it prepared for a grand banquet to honor the remarkable achievements of both Princess Amaya and Donello during the recent Battle of the Titans. The halls were adorned with vibrant banners and fragrant floral arrangements, all set to celebrate their bravery and triumph in a contest that would be remembered for ages.
At the time of the grand banquet, the opulent hall was alive with the chatter of noble guests, their elegant attire shimmering in the warm glow of the chandeliers overhead.
Richly adorned tables were laden with exquisite delicacies, while the air buzzed with excitement and anticipation for the future heir to the throne. As the highlights of his illustrious battles played out on the enormous LCD screen, the guests leaned forward in their seats, eager to catch every moment.
Donello stepped confidently onto the stage, the bright spotlight illuminating him as he prepared to address the audience. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, underscoring the significance of the moment. Though Princess Amaya had garnered more medals for her outstanding achievements, it was Donello, the future heir to the throne, who had been chosen to deliver the keynote speech.
"Thank you all for joining us in celebrating our achievements. I am proud to honor our country, Lireya, and to follow in my father’s footsteps, even though I have not surpassed his accomplishments."
The joyful smile that graced Ibarra’s face vanished in an instant, giving way to a heavy gloom that settled over him like a thick fog. A deep ache spread through his heart, filling him with a profound sense of sorrow.
’Brother, I really regretted it. I will carry this burden to the grave. Yet, in the midst of my remorse, I find a glimmer of solace in the knowledge that my son need not rely on someone else to accomplish great things.’
Donello continued, his eyes gleamed with passion.
"I couldn’t have done it without the help of my coach, who spent a lot of effort to train me.
"My coach is more than just a coach. He is a mentor and a constant source of inspiration. From the first day of practice to the last few days before we headed to Uropa, my coach pushed me beyond my limit and showed me the value of hard work and discipline. His belief in me has often been stronger than my belief in myself."
Danella, seated at the front table, cast a curious glance at her mother, her eyebrows raised in inquiry. "Is brother referring to Coach Voltaire, the one you hired for us all those years ago when we were just small kids?"
"He should be my dear one," Princess Consort Nelida remarked, her voice warm with affection. A radiant smile illuminated her face as she cast a loving glance at her son, who stood confidently on stage, exuding charm and charisma. "Voltaire is an exceptional coach, and I’ve made sure to hire only the finest instructors for both of you." Her pride was evident as she watched him command the audience’s attention.
Voltaire positioned two tables away from the cluster of nobles, sat up straight, pushing his shoulders back and inflating his chest with a gesture of quiet confidence. The subtle tension in the air around him seemed to transform as he took a moment to collect himself, his presence growing more pronounced in the lavish setting of the banquet.
Donello surveyed the crowd with keen interest, his gaze sweeping over the sea of faces as he delivered his speech. His voice grew increasingly fervent, each word dripping with conviction, igniting the audience’s rapt attention and stirring their emotions.
"He was very strict. I remembered the early morning practices that ended at twilight. He stood steadfast on the sidelines, offering encouragement, constructive feedback, and, when needed, a bit of tough love. But beyond the drills and the strategies, he has taught me life lessons: resilience in the face of defeat, humility in victory, and the importance of lifting one another."
Donello’s gaze landed on the table where Voltaire was sitting proudly before it traveled back to the table in the center aisle where his grandparents, father, and eldest sister were seated.
"Everyone, let me call my coach, my role model, and my eldest sister, the First Princess of Lireya." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚
Princess Amaya stood proudly in the midst of loud applause. Princess Consort Nelida and Danella glared at her.
Voltaire felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson as he quickly sank back into his seat. When Donello spoke the words, "Let me call on my coach," Voltaire rose to his feet, his posture a picture of eagerness.
Prince Ibarra rose gracefully from his seat, his regal presence commanding the attention of those around him. With a gentle yet reassuring hand, he guided his daughter toward the stage. As they approached, the spotlight illuminated their figures, casting a warm glow around them.
The Crown Prince took the microphone from Donello and spoke in a deep voice.
"As the Crown Prince of Lireya, I am honored to present the Hermes Award to two exceptional sports heroes who have made our country proud. The first award is given to Princess Amaya, my twin brother’s only daughter. Although she is my brother’s biological child, I also regarded her as my eldest daughter."
A resounding thunderclap echoed through the banquet hall, reverberating off the gilded walls as the Crown Prince stepped forward with an air of solemnity. He presented the gleaming trophy to Princess Amaya, its surface sparkling under the warm glow of crystal chandeliers. With a broad smile, he enveloped her in a heartfelt embrace.
Tears cascaded gently from Amaya’s enchanting eyes, glimmering like tiny jewels in the light. A profound sense of gratitude filled her heart as she stood there, the weight of her emotions finally lifting. In that moment, she cherished the opportunity to openly embrace Daddy Ibrahim as her father, a bond she had longed to acknowledge. At the same time, the warmth of her affection for Ibarra remained steadfast, and she reveled in the joy of still being able to call him "Daddy."
"Amaya, I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for my son," Prince Ibarra whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "I truly believe that he wouldn’t have made it this far without your unwavering support and guidance."
"Donello truly shines, Daddy," she whispered softly, her eyes sparkling with pride. "He just required a gentle nudge to realize his potential. I can already see him becoming a great king one day."
Ibarra smiled. A fleeting sadness appeared in his eyes as he remembered a vague memory.
’Brother, you will be a great king someday,’ ten-year-old Ibrahim teased with a playful grin, his voice echoing softly in the secluded courtyard of the palace. Sunlight filtered through the lush leaves overhead, casting dappled shadows on the cobblestone floor as they practiced their swordsmanship. The air was filled with the sound of clashing wooden blades, and the scent of blooming jasmine lingered nearby. Ibrahim’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he lunged forward, his small frame nimble and quick, while his older brother, wielding his makeshift sword with determination, couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie they shared in this hidden haven.
Ibarra exclaimed with a mix of admiration and frustration, ’But you excel in every way, Brother. It is only fitting that you be the rightful heir to the throne.’
’No. I do not like to be burdened by the crown. I like to be free. Besides, it is yours by birthright.’
"Father, are you alright?" Donello asked worriedly. The Crown Prince was supposed to call the others who won the bronze medals, but he was lost in his thoughts.
Prince Ibarra was suddenly pulled from his reverie, his thoughts snapping back to the moment at hand. With a commanding presence, he summoned the remaining athletes to gather around him. Turning to Donello, he asked him to invite all the coaches and mentors who had dedicated their time and effort to train and support the team throughout their journey to Uropa to join him on the stage.
When everyone had gone down the stage, bachelors from the noble families had gathered around Princess Amaya, congratulating her because of her remarkable wins.
A brooding figure stationed at the side wore a dark scowl, his eyes narrowing as he shot glances like daggers at the dashing men who flocked around the princess. The tension in his posture hinted at his longing to shield her from their charming advances, while the shadows cast across his face deepened the sense of his inner turmoil.
"Why do you wear that expression of a jealous lover, Leon?" Vasquez inquired with a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyebrows arching playfully. "Don’t tell me you developed feelings for her?"
