The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, casting a golden glow across the chamber. Lucas slowly opened his eyes, his body feeling refreshed from a night of intense cultivation. The lingering warmth of Qi still pulsed through his meridians, a sign of steady progress.
He stretched his arms lazily, only to pause when he noticed someone standing near the doorway. Lira was already inside, her hands neatly folded in front of her, her expression bright and blooming with excitement.
"Good morning, Master," she greeted with a deep bow, her voice filled with warmth.
Lucas blinked, still shaking off the remnants of meditation. "Oh, Lira… Good morning. You seem quite cheerful today."
"I'm making progress in my cultivation, Master!" she beamed, her eyes practically glowing with joy.
"That's great to hear. Keep it up, dear," Lucas said, genuinely pleased.
"Thank you, Master," Lira replied, bowing slightly. "I've prepared your breakfast and your bath… You didn't eat anything yesterday," she added with a hint of concern.
Lucas ran a hand through his slightly messy black hair. "Oh… that's true. I got carried away." He chuckled. "Thanks, Lira. I'll take my bath first."
Lira nodded and quickly turned to face the wall, giving him privacy. Lucas walked over to the bath bowl—a large wooden tub filled with warm water that carried a faint herbal scent. He reached for the vials on the nearby table, pouring in a few drops of elixirs. The water shimmered as the potent herbs mixed in, releasing a faint golden hue.
He stepped into the bath, allowing the warm water to soak into his skin, easing the tension in his muscles. As he washed, he felt the subtle energy of the herbs seeping into his pores, reinforcing his body's recovery. It was a small but necessary step in ensuring his cultivation progressed smoothly.
After he was done, he stepped out, grabbed a robe, and tied it loosely around his waist. As he walked toward the mirror, he suddenly realized something—he had barely taken the time to properly look at himself since waking up in Xavier's body.
He leaned closer, taking in his own reflection.
Xavier had sharp, angular features, his face structured yet slightly delicate. His skin was pale but smooth, a contrast to his dark hair, which fell in soft strands over his forehead. His eyes, a striking shade of deep blue, held a sharpness that hadn't been there before, a sign of the new soul that now resided within. His lips were thin but well-shaped, and his nose was straight, giving him an aristocratic air.
His body, though lean, carried a certain elegance. He wasn't particularly muscular, but there was a quiet strength in his frame, a subtle definition in his shoulders and arms. His physique wasn't that of a warrior yet, but given time and training, he would become formidable.
Lucas smirked slightly. Not bad… This face has potential.
After dressing properly and finishing breakfast, he turned to Lira. "I'll be heading to the castle with my father today. The king has summoned us."
Lira's expression shifted slightly, concern flickering in her eyes. "Please be careful, Master… The prince won't be happy about yesterday."
Lucas chuckled. "Let him stew. He's not my priority right now."
With that, he bade her goodbye and left the estate with his father, Elder Gideon.
---
Arrival at the Grand Castle
The journey to the king's castle was short but impressive. As their carriage approached the royal grounds, Lucas gazed out at the towering structure before him.
The Grand Castle of House Highmoor was a sight to behold. Massive stone walls stretched high, adorned with banners bearing the royal sigil—an intricate golden hawk against a deep crimson background. The entrance was guarded by heavily armed knights, their armor gleaming under the morning sun.
Beyond the gates, the courtyard was bustling with servants and nobles alike. Fountains carved from white marble lined the pathways, and exotic plants from distant lands decorated the lush gardens. Every corner of the estate exuded wealth and authority.
Lucas and his father stepped out of the carriage, their boots clicking against the polished stone pavement. The guards at the entrance bowed deeply to Elder Gideon, their respect evident.
Inside, the interior was even more breathtaking. The grand hall was lined with towering columns, each carved with ancient inscriptions. Chandeliers made of enchanted crystals hung from the high ceilings, casting a soft glow over the entire hall.
At the far end of the room, upon a grand throne of dark oak and gold, sat King Godfrey Highmoor. His presence was commanding—his broad shoulders and sharp eyes radiated authority. His graying hair and neatly trimmed beard gave him a dignified appearance, but there was still a strength in his posture that reminded everyone why he was king.
As soon as Lucas and his father stepped forward, the king's gaze softened slightly. "Ah, Elder Gideon… Xavier," he greeted warmly, his deep voice filling the hall. "I'm glad to see you in good health, boy. Your survival is no small matter."
Lucas bowed deeply, as did his father. "Your Majesty, I am honored by your concern."
The king gestured toward the long banquet table behind him. "Come. I've prepared a feast in celebration of your recovery. Sit, eat, and let us talk."
Lucas exchanged a glance with his father before stepping forward. As he moved toward the table, he felt several gazes on him—including one that was filled with unmistakable hostility.
Sitting further down the table, glaring at him with thinly veiled contempt, was none other than the prince.
The grand feast was in full swing, the air thick with the aroma of roasted meats, spiced wines, and exotic fruits. The clinking of goblets and the hum of conversation filled the massive dining hall as nobles and high-ranking officials indulged in the lavish spread before them.
Lucas, though keeping a composed expression, ate with controlled movements, occasionally taking small sips of the fine wine served to him. He was keenly aware of the lingering tension at the table—especially from the prince, who sat a few seats away, forcing a polite front but failing to mask his underlying hostility.
As the banquet carried on, Elder Gideon finally cleared his throat, drawing the attention of those seated. The hall quieted slightly, and Lucas instinctively knew what was coming.
"Your Majesty," Elder Gideon began in a measured tone. "Before we continue this fine feast, I believe we must address the unfortunate incident between my son and your heir, Prince Darius." His voice was firm but respectful.
The king, who had been leisurely sipping from his goblet, set it down with a soft thud and exhaled. "Ah… yes. I have heard of the scuffle." He turned to Lucas with a knowing gaze before shifting toward Darius, who merely stared down at his plate, jaw tight.
Elder Gideon turned to Lucas. "Son, I believe it is only right that you offer an apology. We do not wish for there to be ill will between you and His Highness."
Lucas felt a flicker of irritation but knew better than to argue. This was a game of politics, and he needed to play his role. He put down his goblet and slowly rose from his seat, his expression unreadable.
"Your Highness," Lucas said evenly, inclining his head slightly toward Darius. "I apologize if I have disrespected you in any way."
Darius, still seated, lifted his gaze to meet Lucas'. His lips curled ever so slightly, and for a brief moment, something dark flickered in his eyes—contempt, challenge.
"Apology accepted," the prince said smoothly, but the way he said it made it clear to Lucas that nothing had been settled.
The king, seemingly satisfied, then turned to his son. "And you, Darius. I trust you will extend the same courtesy to young Xavier?"
Darius' fingers tapped lightly against the table, but he knew he had no choice. After a moment, he leaned back and spoke, his voice carrying a feigned warmth.
"I was perhaps… too quick to judge. My apologies, Xavier."
Lucas gave a slight nod, but both young men knew the truth—this was merely a display for the king and the nobles present. Beneath their polite words, the rivalry had only deepened.
With the formalities settled, the atmosphere lightened once more. Servants poured fresh drinks, and conversations resumed as if nothing had happened.
Then, just as Lucas took another sip of wine, the heavy doors of the banquet hall swung open.
A figure entered.
The air in the room shifted instantly.
She was breathtaking.
Lucas lowered his goblet slightly, his keen eyes immediately locking onto the woman who had just stepped into the hall. She walked with the grace of a predator—slow, deliberate, each step carrying a sinful allure that turned heads.
Her name, as Lucas would later learn, was Princess Nyx Highmoor.
She was one of the king's daughters, but unlike the others, she exuded an aura that was almost… intoxicating.
Her figure was divine—curves in all the right places, full, perky breasts that were barely concealed beneath the rich crimson silk of her gown. The fabric clung to her body, accentuating the delicious swell of her hips, the small dip of her waist, and the teasing sway of her ass as she moved.
Her skin was flawless, a shade of pale ivory that glowed under the golden chandeliers. Her long, midnight-black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, framing a face that was equal parts innocence and sin. Her lips were full, painted a deep red, as though she had just indulged in something forbidden.
But what struck Lucas the most were her eyes—piercing, seductive violet eyes that shimmered like amethysts under candlelight. They held a knowing glint, the kind of look that could make even the most disciplined men falter.
Her aura was thick with Yin energy, the kind of energy that would drive a dual cultivator insane with desire. Lucas felt a subtle shiver creep down his spine as he sensed it—it was potent, raw, and dangerously tempting.
She was lust incarnate, and she knew it.
As she glided toward the table, her gaze lazily swept over the men seated before her. She took her time, savoring the way their eyes lingered on her, before finally resting her gaze on Lucas.
And then… she smiled.
A slow, deliberate curve of her lips—seductive, teasing, almost as if she were issuing a challenge.
Lucas felt a heat stir in his chest, but he quickly suppressed it. He wasn't some inexperienced boy who would lose himself over a beautiful woman. But damn… she was something else.
She finally took a seat beside her father, her fingers delicately brushing over the rim of her goblet as a servant poured her wine.
The king gestured toward her. "Xavier, I believe you have not been properly introduced to my daughter. This is Nyx.
Lucas met her gaze, offering a small, polite nod. "A pleasure, Your Highness."
Nyx took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving his. Then, with a voice as smooth as silk, she replied—
"The pleasure… is all mine, Xavier."
The way she said his name sent a subtle shiver down his spine.
Lucas smirked slightly. "This… was going to be interesting."
Nyx took another slow sip of her wine, her piercing violet eyes never leaving Lucas as if she were studying him—measuring him. The small, teasing smile on her lips remained as she set her goblet down, her fingers lightly tracing the rim.
"You must forgive me for my late introduction," she purred, her voice smooth and intoxicating. "I have only recently returned to the kingdom."
Lucas arched a brow. "Oh?"
The king chuckled, placing a hand on Nyx's shoulder. "My dear Nyx has been living with my brother, Duke Godfrey Highmoor, in the Kingdom of Velmoria since childhood. He personally oversaw her upbringing and training."
Lucas noticed the subtle pride in the king's tone, and it made sense. A princess raised by a duke in another kingdom likely meant she had been given an elite education—and possibly combat training.
Nyx leaned forward slightly, her violet eyes gleaming with mischief. "It's been years since I've been home. I must say, the court has… changed in some interesting ways." Her gaze flickered to Lucas briefly, and the corner of her lips curled up ever so slightly.
Lucas smirked internally. She's playing a game.
And he was more than willing to play along.
The prince, Darius, who had been silent for most of the exchange, cleared his throat, drawing attention back to himself. His expression remained neutral, but Lucas didn't miss the subtle way his jaw clenched.
Nyx noticed too.
She leaned back in her seat, picking up her goblet once more, amusement dancing in her eyes.
The tension at the table had shifted.
The feast continued, but Lucas knew one thing for certain—Princess Nyx Highmoor was trouble.
And he was very interested.