Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 233: Once Lost But Now Found: Lady Lara Norse

"My little girl, you are all grown up now." Freya stepped back, her eyes sweeping over Lara’s radiant figure, taking in every detail. Her heart swelled with pride as she observed the graceful lines of Lara’s silhouette, framed by cascading hair that shimmered in the light. "You are truly stunning, my beloved daughter.

Lara was wearing a peach-colored flowing skirt that fell from a raised waistline, outlining her figure. The bodice made from fine silk snugly hugged her bosom, and the square neckline subtly showcased the frilled chemise underneath. The sleeves covered her arm, slightly flared at the wrist with decorative red braid along the cuffs.

The luxurious gown, made from silk fabric, was embellished with intricate embroidery and delicate lace trim, making Lara appear more ethereal. Freya, standing on her tiptoes, delicately balanced a shimmering tiara atop her head, then she gazed at her daughter in admiration.

Lara’s hair flowed freely over her shoulder, cascading in gentle, wavy tendrils that glimmered softly as they tumbled down her back like a silken waterfall, capturing the light with every movement.

Freya smiled happily as she led Lara down the wooden staircase and through the ornate side door that led directly to the courtyard.

The courtyard.

The murmurs grew louder while servants flitted between clusters of nobles, pouring wine into glittering goblets. The ladies stole shy glances at the two princes and the other bachelors who attended the banquet.

Prince Reuben remained standing, hands clasped behind his back, eyes still sweeping the gathering with an almost predatory patience. Beside him, Prince Alderan leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, watching the crowd with lazy indifference before shifting his gaze to Reuben.

"Brother, if I didn’t know you, I would think you were a teenager eagerly waiting for his crush." Alderan swirled the wine in his goblet.

Reuben chuckled. Perhaps his brother was right. His heart raced every time he thought about Lara, and it was the first time he was feeling such intense emotion.

Mira’s hands were still clenched in her lap, her knuckles bone-white against the satin of her gown. The fabric crinkled beneath her fingers, but she couldn’t release it. General Odin insisted on waiting for Freya and Lara before they presented her to their guests.

Then, the courtyard seemed to have shifted in an instant. The eyes that had once been on her now glanced to the archway, waiting. The murmurs quieted down, and the anticipation hung thick in the air. Even the whispers of how lovely she looked had withered away.

Then, just as the tension peaked, the grand double doors at the far end of the hall swung open. The crowd turned as one, a ripple of whispers rolling through the guests like the crest of a wave.

Freya emerged first, her smile radiant and eyes gleaming with pride. She stepped aside, smoothing her skirts with delicate precision, and turned to the entrance.

Lara stepped forward.

The collective gasp that swept through the courtyard was almost audible.

She stood framed in the doorway, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the chandelier lights that hung from the ceiling behind her like suspended stars. The peach dress, with its embellishment, shimmered with every breath she took. Silk skirts billowed softly around her legs, gliding with her movements. The tiara on her head caught the flickering light of the candles and torches, making her hair look like the copper glow of the sunset.

Before General Odin could step forward, his six sons beat him to it. They rushed forward, blocking Lara from the other’s view.

"Sis, I’ll escort you." Six voices spoke at once, and six arms extended to be held by her.

Lara blinked. Suddenly, she was at a loss.

"You brats, step aside." General Odin’s voice boomed, and the brothers who feared their father could only give way.

General Odin stepped forward, his expression filled with pride and emotion. "My daughter," he announced, his voice carrying over the silence. "Returned to us by the grace of the heavens. Lady Lara Norse."

Applause erupted, hesitant at first, then growing louder as the shock wore off. People began to murmur again, their voices bright with astonishment and admiration.

"Is that her? She looks... transformed. I was wrong earlier."

"Unbelievable! I heard she was dead... but look at her. So beautiful!"

"She carries herself like royalty! Did you see the way the princes looked at her?"

Mira’s smile had cracked. She could feel it slipping, her jaw clenching so tightly that she thought her teeth might shatter. Her hands were trembling, still curled in her lap, and she pressed them down harder to stop the shaking. Lara wasn’t just beautiful—she was radiant, even ethereal.

It was her birthday. Why was Lara getting all the attention?

Mira’s gaze flicked toward Prince Reuben, and her heart twisted painfully. He had taken a step forward, his eyes fixed on Lara with an intensity that bordered on reverence.

"Lady Lara," he called, his voice smooth and rich. The crowd parted for him like waves around a stone. He moved with the kind of effortless grace that only came with bloodlines of royalty. When he reached her, he bowed deeply, the motion fluid and respectful. "I feared I might not see you again," he said, his eyes locked with hers. "It is good to be proven wrong."

Lara did not falter. Her gaze was steady, and her voice was calm and clear. "Your Highness," she replied, dipping into a perfect curtsy. "I did not know you would be here."

His smile was slow, spreading across his face like sunlight over frost. "I would not have missed the party," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. The silence that followed was taut and fragile, like a thread stretched to its limit.

From the far side of the courtyard, Mira watched the exchange with eyes that burned. Her fingers dug into her palms until she felt the sting of her own nails biting into flesh. She had imagined this moment a thousand times—the princes arriving, seeking her out, lifting her hand to their lips in courtly greeting. And yet, it was Lara who stood at the center of it all, the one drawing the eyes of everyone, the whispers of awe.

Lara suddenly turned toward Mira. She saw how much she was keeping the rage from bubbling up.

"I see, Your Highness. My sister is over there. The party tonight is her coming of age, and she is the star of the night."