Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 252: Reuben’s Proposal

Back at the Justice Hall, the crowd had started to disperse. Prince Reuben looked around. He had been searching for Lara but was disappointed when he saw that she was gone. When did she leave? Why did she not wait for him? The question gnawed at him.

"Looking for someone, Brother?"

Reuben turned to find Prince Alderan at his side, a warm smile curling on his lips. His younger brother’s eyes were sharp and observant, and he always knew more than he let on.

"I saw her leave with Peredur," Alderan added, watching the flicker of disappointment cross Reuben’s face.

Before Reuben could respond, Alderan leaned in conspiratorially. "You can invite his family over," he suggested smoothly. "Then you can say whatever you want. You are now the crown prince, the heir to the throne."

Reuben regarded his brother with a measuring gaze. Alderan had always followed him since they were children. Back then, when Reuben would bully Alaric, Alderan would stand off to the side—never participating, never intervening. He just watched. Reuben had once thought it was loyalty or perhaps fear. But he had later learned that Alderan would sneak into Alaric’s quarters afterwards with ointment for the bruises.

As children, Reuben assumed it was Alderan knowing his place—keeping to the shadows where it was safe. But now, as grown men, he found it impossible to read him. Was his kindness genuine, or was he scheming for something?

Alderan’s mother had been the king’s favored concubine, a status largely owed to her uncanny resemblance to the late queen. They don’t look alike. His mother looked a lot like the former queen, but Concubine Saturna’s build was like that of the former queen. If you look at them from the back, you would mistake the two as twins. Perhaps that familiarity, that echo of memory, was why the king held her so dearly.

"Thank you, Brother, for giving me that idea," Reuben finally said, the edge of his mouth curling into a grin.

Alderan was brilliant. He was a top scholar during school, and Reuben found most of his advice beneficial.

Before another word could be exchanged, General Odin approached with his five sons in tow. They bowed stiffly, ready to take their leave, but Reuben cut them off with a smile. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"General, I would be honored if you and your sons would join me for lunch at my palace," he said smoothly.

"General, I am inviting you and your sons to have lunch with me at this prince’s palace." The prince’s palace was located at eastern side of the Royal Complex. While it has a gate facing the main road, the west gate connects it to the King’s palace at the Royal Complex. In Northem, once a prince reached the age of eighteen, they were granted their own dwelling within the Royal Complex.

The five brothers exchanged hesitant glances. They had been looking forward to go home and have lunch with their sister and mother, but declining the heir to the throne was not an option. General Odin, his eyes hardening with resigned acceptance, bowed once more. "We would be honored, Your Highness."

The procession made its way to Reuben’s palace on the eastern edge of the Royal Complex. While not as grand as the king’s palace, it exuded elegance. Manicured gardens lined the stone pathways, their blooms bursting with color, and the scent of jasmine lingered in the air.

The group entered through the heavy carved wooden doors, their surfaces embellished with intricate floral patterns and gilded handles. When they stepped inside, they were greeted by the soft glow of sunlight filtering through stained glass windows, casting jeweled hues across the marble floor.

Along the walls of the room, plush wooden chairs and cushioned settees were thoughtfully arranged, thoughtfully covered in velvets and brocades of deep crimson and forest green. Cushions stuffed with goose down rest upon them, inviting comfort. A centerpiece of polished silver candelabras adorned the big table, carved from oak and decorated with intricate scrollwork.

Reuben gestured for the Norse men to make themselves comfortable while preparations for lunch began. Asael wandered to a corner of the grand room where a small reading nook nestled between towering shelves of manuscripts and leather-bound books. His hand hovered over a volume, but his eyes caught something else—a painting, nestled against the first layer of the shelf.

It was small, no larger than a sheet of parchment, but beautifully framed in dark wood. The painting depicted a woman mid-dance, her form suspended in midair with impossible grace. Her left leg and arm extended backward while her right leg folded delicately, her head tilted to the heavens. Her expression was serene, almost otherworldly.

Asael stepped closer, his breath catching. The figure in the painting... it looked like Lara.

Just then, Bener wandered over, his curiosity piqued. He squinted at the painting. The dress looked familiar and that pose...his eyes widened. "Hey... isn’t that Lara?"

It was known that when Prince Reuben travelled, he always brought with him an artist who captured important events, people, animals, or objects that he fancied through a brush.

Asael nodded, his voice hushed. "It looks like her."

Bener stepped closer, eyes tracing the lines of the dress and the elegant sweep of her limbs. "That’s the dress she wore at the banquet in Calma," he murmured, his brows knitting together. "That’s her dancing. Why does Prince Reuben have this?"

The two brothers shared a weighted look, the unspoken question heavy between them.

Did Prince Reuben fancy their sister?

Reuben strode from the dining hall. His eyes drifted to the corner where Asael and Bener still lingered, their heads bent close together as they whispered urgently. He noted how Asael’s eyes kept darting back to the painting and how Bener’s hand hovered near it, as if tempted to snatch it from the wall.

Alderan followed his brother’s gaze, his lips curling ever so slightly. "An interesting piece, wouldn’t you say?" he remarked, his voice soft enough that only Reuben could hear.

"She danced beautifully," Reuben replied evenly, though his tone was clipped. "I thought it deserved to be remembered."

Soon, they saw all six men crowded before the painting.

Prince Reuben cleared his throat to subtly announce his presence and six heads turned toward him.

"Indeed, I fancy Lara and wish her to be the Crown Princess Consort."