Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 251: Coincidental Meeting?

Alaric reached out steadily to the woman who stepped back, but his hand froze mid-air when Lara regained her balance.

"Your Highness," Peredur greeted the prince with a slight bow, his tone respectful yet edged with surprise. "What brings you here?"

Prince Alaric’s gaze flicked to the young Norse scholar. "Peredur, what a coincidence," he replied smoothly, his gaze shifted to the young woman who had just stumbled into him, her cheeks flushed a soft crimson.

"I am accompanying my sister," Peredur explained, glancing between them. "She wished to visit a metal smith."

Alaric raised an eyebrow, his expression sharp with curiosity. "A metal smith? Are you looking for something, Lady Lara?" His tone was formal, polished, but there was an undercurrent of familiarity that did not go unnoticed. "By the way, I didn’t get the chance earlier to congratulate you on receiving the Medal of Valor—and your father’s new title as Marquis. Quite the achievements."

Lara inclined her head gracefully. "Thank you, Your Highness," she replied, her voice polite but distant.

Alaric’s brow furrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "Why so formal? You can call me Alaric," he urged, his gaze locking onto hers with a surprising intensity. "We’ve been through a lot together, haven’t we?"

Lara was speechless. Didn’t he just address me as Lady Lara?

Peredur’s eyes darted between them, suspicion creeping into his voice. "Your Highness, what do you mean? What have you been through together?" He knew of Lara’s daring rescue of the prince and the message she delivered on his behalf, but something about Alaric’s tone seemed...intimate. Too intimate.

Prince Alaric and Peredur had some interaction in the palace. Alaric’s teacher in Math was also Peredur’s teacher. Sometime’s they would meet in their teacher’s study, so the two were familiar with each other.

Alaric’s eyes flicked to Lara, noting the faint flush that deepened on her cheeks. "Your sister," he began, turning back to Peredur, "was attacked by a snake while bathing in a spring in Ourea. I happened to be nearby and intervened."

Peredur’s eyes went wide with shock. "You..." he stammered, the unspoken implications hammering into him like a battering ram. If the prince had seen his sister bathing... her reputation would be in jeopardy. His fists clenched unconsciously.

Before the tension could further escalate, the shopkeeper bustled back into the workshop, arms laden with brush, ink, and paper. His eyes bulged at the sight of Prince Alaric standing casually in his workshop. "Y-Your Highness!" he panicked, bowing so low his nose nearly touched the floor. "My deepest apologies—I didn’t realize..."

Alaric waved a hand dismissively. "No need for theatrics, Mathias," he said coolly. "Please, lead the way."

Matthias nodded vigorously, ushering the prince toward a private room at the back of the shop. He gestured for Alaric to sit while a servant hurried forward with tea, pouring it with trembling hands.

"Arrange for those two to wait in the reception area." Alaric’s voice was commanding. "Why did you allow them to enter the workshop?"

Matthias turned toward the door. "Those two—escort them to the reception room and serve them refreshments," He instructed a maid sharply, then turned back to the prince with a deferential bow. "Forgive my oversight, Your Highness. I was...caught off guard. Then she gave me something and I was distracted."

"What does she want?" Alaric asked, his voice carrying a hint of masked curiosity.

Matthias hesitated. "She? That effeminate-looking man... she’s a woman?" His eyes bulged in disbelief.

Alaric glared at him, and Mattias shut his mouth. He hastily retrieved two parchments and spread them out on the table.

Alaric leaned forward, studying the designs. One parchment has an intricate and fine drawing of a hollow needle, with dimensions clearly labeled. "A hollow needle?" he mused. freёnovelkiss.com

Matthias nodded.

The drawing in the second parchment was something he could not understand at first—delicate gears, a big wheel, and a smaller wheel sketched out with painstaking detail. He looked at it in more detail.

He read the small label, "This...a sewing machine?" He traced a finger along the lines, noting the needle’s hole was positioned at the bottom instead of the top—a clever and ingenious design. He could guess the function of the small and bigger wheel. "When are you going to complete the product?"

" I can complete the hollow needle in three days. But the sewing machine... It’s far more complex. I’m still figuring out its mechanisms."

Alaric straightened, his eyes glimmering with appreciation. "Finish your business with them first. I want to see this contraption of hers complete," he instructed, his voice firm. Matthias bowed and hurried out, leaving Alaric to examine a folding knife left on the table.

The prince picked it up, testing its mechanisms. He pulled out the first blade—thin and sharp, the height of his middle finger. He slid it back and unfolded the second blade—thicker, more robust, its edge serrated. He pried the folded part, and it doubled in length. A smile ghosted his lips. Matthias truly was a master of his craft, a rare genius. He was lucky that he came across such a diamond in the rough.

Satisfied, Alaric pocketed the knife and made his way to the reception room through a connecting door. He entered with a smooth stride, his presence drawing startled gasps from Lara and Peredur.

"Are you finished with your business?" he asked in a voice that was calm but carrying the weight of command.

"Yes, Your Highness," Peredur replied, his posture stiffening out of habit.

Alaric’s smile returned, a touch softer. "Then allow me to treat you to lunch. It is nearly noon, after all."

Lara opened her mouth to politely refuse, but Peredur cut her off, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "We would be honored!"

"Brother!" Lara protested. What was her brother thinking? If this was Calma, she had no qualms, but it was the capital. What if Alaric’s women learned about it and disturbed her peace?

Her gaze landed on the cloak that covered her fatigues. She forgot, she was still in a man’s clothes.

Lara glanced away, her cheeks coloring again. Alaric’s gaze caught hers, lingering for a heartbeat longer than necessary before he turned back toward the door. "Shall we, then?"