Return of the General's Daughter-Chapter 261: The Night of the Banquet

Alaric and Lara left the garden and returned to the drawing room. It was time for Alaric to leave, but before he did, he handed Lara a beautifully wrapped gift.

"I’ll see you at the banquet tomorrow. Please wear that," Alaric leaned forward and whispered before leaving to avoid imposing on Lara’s family.

All that had happened was witnessed by two people.

Mira, who was on the second floor and about to come down to join the family dinner, felt a tightness in her chest when she noticed the closeness between Alaric and Lara. How had Prince Alaric become so close to Lara?

She gritted her teeth at the memory of the time the prince dodged, making her fall. She believed that the prince simply didn’t want women in his personal space, but seeing how close Lara stood beside him, she could only curse silently.

Amelia was sitting in a corner when she saw the prince and Lara enter. She was displeased. Lara used to shun boys. She was shy and nervous when men approached her. But right now, Prince Alaric was too close for comfort. Just when did Lara became so comfortable surrounded by men?

Her friend had changed into someone she did not recognize.

...

The following night, Lara stood just inside the grand banquet hall, her hand resting lightly on the arm of her brother Asael, though her eyes were scanning the crowd. Crystal chandeliers poured golden light across the marbled floor, where nobles were buzzing around, in sweeping robes and embroidered coats. Laughter tinkled like wind chimes—pleasant, calculated, but hollow.

The air was filled with the nauseating, almost dizzying scent of expensive perfume layered with wine and roasted meats. Behind her calm expression, Lara felt her stomach knot.

She was here. She’d chosen to come despite her family’s advise.

Now she realized why they were against it. She felt like she’d stepped into a different life—one of pretenses, one that didn’t quite belong to her. If this were the life of the noble, then she’d rather be a commoner.

She hadn’t seen Alaric yet. Not since last night, when he took her hand and asked her to be his companion. The memory lingered like warmth on her skin. She hadn’t given him an answer. Not out loud. But she had come.

Was that enough?

Asael leaned down to murmur in her ear, "You can still walk out with me right now." He teased.

Lara smiled. "If I fled every uncomfortable moment, you’d never see me again."

Asael’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing more.

Then a hush spread across the hall after a herald’s announcement.

Prince Reuben had entered.

He was surrounded by an entourage of courtiers, all dressed in the house colors of gold and purple. Beside him was the beautiful Ladi Amielle, looking proud and regal.

Reuben walked with casual confidence, his presence undeniably magnetic. He was tall, dark-haired, and had a practiced smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Nobles turned toward him like sunflowers looking up at the sun.

He was handsome, charming... dangerous.

And his gaze landed on Lara almost immediately.

"Greetings, Your Highness," both Lara and Asael greeted politely.

"Asael, my friend." Reuben placed his hand on Asael’s shoulder, and the eldest son of the Norses stood awkwardly.

From the shadowed corner of the hall, Alaric was watching.

He arrived early but lingered in the wings, observing. He saw Lara stepping in with her eldest brother, followed by General Odin, his wife Freya, and the rest of his siblings, with two women, Mira and Lara’s friend from last night.

Alaric was awstruck when he saw Lara’s eyes darting around—searching, unsure. ’Searching for me?’ he thought.

Hope was a dangerous thing. But it bloomed anyway.

Then Reuben arrived.

The crowd shifted as if the tide itself had turned. And of course, Reuben saw her. Alaric knew he would. He knew Reuben had never stopped thinking of Lara—not since that evening at Calma, when she danced during the banquet and didn’t even realize the crown prince was captivated.

And now she stood in his line of sight again, in a light blue gown that caught the light like the surface of the calm sea. Alaric felt his breath hitch.

If Reuben speaks to her first—if he pulls her into his orbit again—it’s over.

Alaric moved.

...

"Lady Lara," came a voice like velvet, smooth and deep.

She turned—and found Prince Reuben standing in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Your presence is more radiant than I remember. Yesterday, your father said you cannot make it as you are not feeling well."

’So my family wished that I did not attend this.’ Lara thought as she smiled. "Greetings, Your Highness. You seem well."

"I am," Reuben replied, stepping closer. "I would be better if you saved me from the company of sycophants and danced with me."

He offered his hand.

The entire hall was watching.

Lara felt Asael shift beside her, tense as a drawn bowstring.

And just as her fingers began to lift toward Reuben’s...

"Lara."

She turned at the sound of his voice.

Alaric stood at her other side now—tall, dressed in a navy-blue robe, his dark eyes locked on hers. His jaw was tight, but his expression was calm and determined.

"Forgive my interruption, Brother," he said, his back straight, his head held high. "Lady Lara is here as my companion. I believe the first dance is mine."

"Is that so?" Reuben asked through gritted teeth.

Lara’s breath caught in her throat. Every eye was still on them.

She looked from one man to the other.

Reuben, with his kingdom and crown and charm.

Alaric, with his silence, his obsidian orbs, penetrating, and the warmth of a hand he hadn’t let go of the night before.

The tension was a thread pulled taut.

Then Lara smiled.

"I did promise Alaric," she said, sliding her hand into his.

And just like that, the hall exhaled.

Alaric didn’t allow himself to breathe until her fingers curled around his.

Then they moved together to the center of the hall, where the music swelled—it was a dance in three-quarter time, slow and regal.

He placed one hand on his back, the other holding hers gently.

"You saved me," she said under her breath.

"No," he replied, voice quiet enough for her ears alone. "You saved me."

They began to dance.

Around them, nobles whispered. Reuben watched. The king’s advisors took note. But Alaric didn’t care.

Not now.

Because Lara had chosen him.

And in this moment, that was the only crown he needed.