Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 328: Confrontation

On the day Lara was summoned to the royal palace, Gideon and the twins flanked her like silent sentinels. The palace gates loomed high under the golden early afternoon sun, casting short shadows across the cobblestone pathway. Mira trailed behind them, her presence announced with a flutter of skirts and a sugary smile. She insisted she had an appointment with Princess Ceres—an excuse, but none bothered to challenge her.

The group moved through gilded hallways and marble corridors until they reached the King’s court. Lara’s gaze locked on a familiar silhouette.

"Isn’t that Kasmer?" she murmured as she approached the two who had just exited the king’s court.

She looked again—yes, it was him. Kasmer stood beside a middle-aged man with silver-white hair, the two of them just exiting the court.

The resemblance was uncanny, but Lara’s sharp senses detected something off. The man’s scent was wrong—faintly perfumed and foreign—and his posture lacked the regal and commanding aura she had come to associate with Alaric.

"Kasmer. You’re here too?"

He paused mid-step and gave her an awkward nod, unsure whether to offer a smile or maintain formality.

"My Lady. We were just leaving," he said, tone stiff with uncertainty.

Lara frowned. When she looked closer, she realized something was wrong. The man wasn’t Alaric. He smelt different and his demeanor was far from Alaric. Then could it be that Alaric impersonated a real person?

"My apologies," she said smoothly. "I thought I recognized someone else."

She turned and melted back into the crowd, seeking her brothers.

"That is Lady Lara Norse," Orion explained quietly to the silver-haired man. "Only daughter of General Odin Norse. And Alaric’s betrothed."

"Alaric’s betrothed..." Kasmer repeated. His eyes lingered on Lara’s retreating figure. She walked like a warrior, yet held herself with the grace of royalty. "He’s a damn lucky man."

But a thought flickered through his mind, sharp and unwelcome. He leaned closer to Orion and whispered, "Do you think Alaric came back... for her?"

"Brat," Orion growled. "Don’t go stirring the wind with questions better left unasked. You’ve got your own mess to clean up."

Kasmer hummed but didn’t argue. Even so, he glanced once more at Lara, a quiet question burning in his eyes.

"Where’s Molavi?" Orion called.

"He’ll meet me at the inn with my most trusted guard," Kasmer replied.

"Two martial artists should be enough. You carry the king’s decree now—his recognition of you as heir to the Dukedom of Greenshire. And his pardon, in light of your service to the people. But tread carefully. I won’t be able to protect you next time."

"Thank you, Orion."

"Hmph. If you want to thank me, help me find someone."

...

Meanwhile, Lara and her brothers were led to the palace’s side hall—a richly adorned chamber reserved for matters of trade and negotiation. Tapestries of past conquests hung along the walls, while sunlight filtered in through high, arched windows.

"Lady Lara," came a voice laced with charm.

Prince Reuben approached, all polished confidence and princely arrogance. He took Lara’s hand and pressed a kiss to its back. She stiffened, forcing herself not to recoil.

Gideon stepped forward, voice cold but courteous. "Your Highness. We have brought the necessary documentation for the sale of the Iron Horse patent."

"Hmm, good!" Reuben nodded and looked pleased. "This is for everyone’s best interest."

"Please examine the document, Your Highness. We will sell the patent for a thousand gold coins." Gideon announced, keeping his voice respectful even if inside he was boiling mad.

"I will make it hard for you. Anyway, in the future we will be family." Prince Reuben replied confidently.

Gideon’s eyelids twitched. The twins clenched their fists in sync, barely restraining themselves. But Lara remained composed, her expression unreadable.

"Your Highness!" a bright voice called from the doorway.

Mira floated in, eyes wide with false innocence. "Princess Ceres has requested Lady Lara’s presence."

"Hmm." Reuben hummed. "I will finalize the transaction with the brothers."

Mira eagerly hooked her arm around Lara’s, pulling her from the room. Lara resisted the touch instinctively and shrugged her off.

"You don’t need to cling to me. I can walk on my own."

"Sis," Mira said sweetly, falling into step beside her. "Why do I feel like you resent me? Is it because your parents adopted me? You treated me better when we were cousins."

"You know why," Lara replied icily. "Don’t pretend with me."

"What are you talking about, Sis? What did I do?" Mira blinked dramatically. "You mean, the fact that I was there to comfort your sick mother when you disappeared for two years?"

"And you knew very well why I disappeared, didn’t you?" Lara asked coldly.

"Sis, I really don’t know what you are talking about. It was my maids who colluded with the human trafficker to kidnap you." Mira stepped ahead and stopped in front of me. "Though I was the original target, it wasn’t my fault they took it upon themselves to have you kidnapped instead."

Lara’s gaze bore into Mira’s. Mira had to look up because Lara was taller than her. She regretted it. Lara’s eyes were piercing.

She knew that her eyes were light brown, but at that time, she could swear that those orbs, usually a calm brown, glowed with an ember-like intensity.

Mira shivered. There was no mistaking the look: vengeance.

She turned abruptly and strode ahead, trying to escape those eyes. Lara chuckled softly and followed her into Princess Ceres’ chambers.

The princess’s boudoir was lavish: velvet drapes, a golden chandelier, and a parlor filled with dainty furniture and exotic flowers.

"You called for me, Princess?" Lara asked, treating the princess as her equal.

"Yes. I’m struggling with a dance step, and Mira’s no help," Ceres pouted.

Lara’s brow arched, but she complied, teaching the step with quiet precision. As minutes dragged into hours, her patience wore thin.

"Enough. We’ll continue tomorrow," the princess finally declared, summoning servants who brought in silver trays of pastries and steaming tea.

Princess Ceres and Mira excitedly took their teacups and munched on the pastries.

"What’s wrong, Lady Lara? You don’t like tea?" Princes Ceres asked, her voice laced with sarcasm that did not escape Lara’s notice.

She lifted the tea cup but before she could take a sip, she frowned.

There was something with the teacup.

Visit freewe𝑏(n)ovel.𝘤ℴ𝑚 for the best novel reading exp𝒆rience