The day before the ceremony arrived with peculiar tension, castle staff rushing about with barely controlled chaos as final preparations reached fever pitch. Raze had been fitted for formal attire that morning, tailors fussing over details with intensity suggesting anything less than perfection would constitute personal failure.

The outfit was magnificent despite his general discomfort with excessive formality. Deep blue coat with silver threading that matched his house colors, white shirt beneath, tailored pants that somehow managed to look elegant rather than ridiculous. The whole ensemble probably cost more than most families earned annually.

Sophie had visited that afternoon, bringing Mittens along for what she claimed was moral support but mostly seemed like an excuse to escape her own ceremony preparations.

"You look fancy," she observed, studying his formal appearance critically. "Very lordly."

"I look like I'm attending my own execution," Raze replied.

"That too," Sophie agreed cheerfully. "But a well dressed execution. That counts for something."

The evening passed slowly, Raze's mind refusing to settle despite exhaustion from two weeks of relentless activity. Tomorrow would mark formal public acknowledgment of his betrothal, announcement that would reshape the political landscape throughout multiple kingdoms.

He stood at his bedroom window staring at Castle Town's nighttime lights, Bephe settled on the floor nearby. The small apex predator had become a constant companion, presence somehow comforting despite the creature's prehistoric origins.

Sleep came eventually, though dreams were fragmented and strange. Images of his previous life mixed with this new existence, the disconnect between who he'd been and who he was becoming creating surreal narratives that dissolved upon waking.

Morning arrived with brilliant sunshine that seemed calculated to maximize ceremony grandeur. Servants appeared early, ensuring his preparation occurred with precision that left no detail unattended. The formal attire fit perfectly, tailors' efforts validated as Raze examined himself in the mirror.

He looked like a Count. The realization was simultaneously satisfying and unsettling. The face staring back at him belonged to this world, this body, this life that had become his through circumstances no amount of game knowledge could have predicted.

The morning hours blurred past in final preparations. Logan appeared with last minute updates about guest arrivals, Oziel confirmed security arrangements were adequate, and Mariabel stopped by to wish him luck with expression suggesting she found the entire affair amusing.

Then, perhaps two hours before the ceremony's scheduled start, commotion erupted from the palace gates.

Raze had been reviewing his prepared remarks when the disturbance became apparent, raised voices carrying through open windows with urgency that suggested this wasn't normal guest arrival. He moved toward the balcony overlooking the main approach, curiosity overriding ceremonial focus.

A procession of carriages rolled through the palace gates, their approach accompanied by mounted knights bearing standards that made Raze's stomach sink.

The Kingdom of Astoria.

Not just any delegation, but one whose significance was immediately apparent from the elaborate crests adorning every surface. Gold and crimson heraldry that marked these vehicles as carrying royalty rather than simple diplomatic representatives.

The lead carriage bore particularly ostentatious decoration, suggesting its passenger held exceptional status even within royal hierarchy. Guards flanked the procession, their armor gleaming with enchantments that marked them as elite warriors.

Raze's game knowledge stirred uneasily. Astoria had pursued a marriage alliance with this kingdom for years, proposals arriving with predictable regularity despite being consistently rejected. King Harold had carefully avoided that entanglement, recognizing the political implications would shift regional power dynamics in ways he couldn't control.

The carriages halted in the palace courtyard with precision that spoke to extensive travel experience. Servants rushed forward to manage horses and provide assistance, though tension was evident in every movement.

Thud.

The lead carriage door opened.

A young man emerged first, his age appearing similar to or slightly above Raze's. Golden hair caught the sunlight with almost calculated perfection, arranged in style that suggested extensive grooming preceded every public appearance. His features were handsome in the conventional sense, sharp angles and clear skin that cultivation maintained effortlessly. Blue eyes surveyed surroundings with expression mixing confidence and something approaching disdain.

He wore formal attire marking him as Astorian royalty, deep crimson coat with gold threading that complemented the kingdom's colors. Every movement carried practiced grace, the bearing of someone raised knowing their status exceeded most people they'd encounter.

The Prince. Raze didn't recall his specific name from the game, the character having been a relatively minor presence in storylines he'd paid attention to. What mattered now was the context surrounding this arrival.

A young woman emerged from the carriage behind him, her resemblance suggesting immediate family relation. She shared the golden hair though hers was longer and arranged with elaborate braiding. Her dress was elegant crimson silk that matched her brother's coat, jewelry glittering with enchantments that marked each piece as valuable beyond normal measurement.

The Princess, presumably the Prince's sister based on their obvious similarity.

Additional carriages disgorged more passengers, knights and attendants whose numbers suggested this wasn't a simple diplomatic visit but rather a statement. The procession's size exceeded what protocol demanded for engagement ceremony attendance.

The Prince surveyed the palace grounds with an expression that shifted from appraisal to something harder as his gaze found the ceremony preparations. Banners bearing Dragonheart and Royal crests hung from every suitable surface, decorations making the event's purpose unmistakable.

His jaw tightened visibly, though training prevented a more obvious emotional display.

King Harold emerged from the palace proper, his expression carefully neutral despite tension evident in his bearing. Queen Eleanor accompanied him, her diplomatic mask firmly in place though Raze detected displeasure in subtle details.

"Your Highness," Harold said, voice carrying formal courtesy that barely concealed the undercurrent. "We weren't expecting an Astorian delegation for this afternoon's ceremony."

The Prince bowed with precisely calculated depth, the gesture technically appropriate while somehow conveying disrespect through subtle execution. "Your Majesty. We received an invitation indicating all neighboring kingdoms were welcome to attend Princess Fedora's engagement announcement. Naturally, Astoria couldn't decline such generous hospitality."

The words were perfectly diplomatic. The delivery carried edges that transformed courtesy into challenge.

"Of course," Harold replied smoothly. "You're most welcome, though perhaps advance notice would have allowed us to prepare appropriate accommodations."

"We require no special treatment," the Prince said, smile never reaching his eyes. "Standard guest quarters will suffice. We're here simply to witness this momentous occasion."

The Princess moved to stand beside her brother, her expression showing polite interest that didn't quite mask the calculation behind it. "Princess Fedora must be thrilled. Such an unexpected development after declining previous proposals."

The comment landed with precision, subtle reminder that Fedora's betrothal to someone like Raze represented deviation from what Astoria had anticipated. The implication was clear enough. They'd expected her to eventually accept one of their proposals, not announce engagement to a Count who'd been nobody mere weeks ago.

Fedora herself appeared at that moment, having been alerted to the arrival. She descended the palace steps with grace that made her formal gown seem almost incidental to her presence. Her cinnamon brown hair was arranged in elaborate style preparing for the ceremony, though her expression showed no surprise at seeing the Astorian delegation.

Her Precognition had clearly warned her this complication was coming.

"Your Highness," she greeted formally, curtsy and measured to acknowledge status without suggesting warmth. "Astoria honors us with your presence."

The Prince's gaze tracked across Fedora with intensity that made Raze's hands clench despite the distance separating them. His expression showed appreciation mixing with something possessive that transcended mere political calculation.

"Princess Fedora," he replied, taking her offered hand to press lips against her knuckles in a gesture that lingered slightly too long. "You're radiant as always. I confess surprise at learning your engagement through public announcement rather than private communication between kingdoms who've maintained such close ties."

"The betrothal developed rapidly," Fedora said, extracting her hand with practiced grace. "Circumstances didn't permit extensive advance notice."

"Indeed," the Prince's smile sharpened. "One wonders what circumstances could inspire such haste. Particularly given your previous position regarding marriage proposals."

Raze had heard enough. He descended from his observation point, moving through palace corridors toward the courtyard with Bephe trotting at his heels. The small apex predator sensed his mood, visible heart pulsing faster as if preparing for conflict.

He emerged into the courtyard, formal attire marking his status even before anyone registered his identity. Conversation paused as attention tracked toward him, multiple gazes assessing this newcomer who'd somehow secured what the Astorian Prince had pursued unsuccessfully for years.

"Count Dragonheart," Harold said, relief evident in his tone. "Allow me to introduce Their Highnesses from the Kingdom of Astoria."

Raze approached with measured steps, recognizing this moment would establish dynamics for whatever complications were about to unfold. He stopped at appropriate distance, bowing with precise depth that acknowledged their royal status while asserting his own position as Fedora's betrothed.

The transmigrator in him found the whole situation absurd. Weeks ago he'd been inhabiting the body of a nobody, now he was facing down foreign royalty like this was normal.

"Your Highnesses," Raze said evenly. "Welcome to our engagement ceremony. Your presence honors us."

The Prince's blue eyes studied Raze with intensity suggesting he was cataloging every detail. His gaze tracked from face to formal attire to the small creature at Raze's feet, expression showing brief confusion about Bephe before dismissing it as irrelevant.

"Count Dragonheart," the Prince replied, the title carrying weight that transformed it into a challenge. "Quite the remarkable ascent. From commoner to Count to future crown prince within mere weeks. One might almost suspect divine favor rather than mere capability."

The words were perfectly polite. The implication was clear. How could someone who'd been nobody achieve this much this quickly without something suspicious occurring?

"Fortune has been kind," Raze acknowledged, refusing to rise to the provocation. "Though I prefer to think my betrothal reflects Princess Fedora's judgment rather than mere luck."

"Quite so," the Princess interjected smoothly, her smile sharp. "Princess Fedora has always demonstrated exceptional judgment in all matters. I'm certain this decision reflects equally careful consideration as her previous choices."

Fedora's hand found Raze's arm, the touch gentle but possessive. "Indeed it does. Count Dragonheart has proven himself worthy through actions rather than merely words."

The Prince's expression tightened almost imperceptibly, though training prevented more obvious reaction. His attention tracked to where Fedora's hand rested on Raze's arm, gaze lingering on the contact before returning to Raze's face.

"Then I look forward to witnessing the ceremony," he said, smile returning though it carried frost now. "And to becoming better acquainted with the man who's accomplished what I could not."

The words hung in the afternoon air, tension crystallizing around them despite the beautiful weather and festive decorations. This wasn't a simple diplomatic visit. This was an opening salvo in conflict that would extend beyond a single ceremony.

Bephe's visible heart pulsed faster, the small apex predator sensing hostility even if unable to act on it. The creature's amber eyes tracked the Prince with disturbing intensity, predatory instinct recognizing potential threat despite his human form.

Queen Eleanor smoothly intervened, her diplomatic expertise defusing immediate tension. "Your Highnesses, please allow us to show you to your quarters. The ceremony begins in two hours. I'm certain you'll want time to refresh after your journey."

The Astorian delegation was smoothly redirected toward guest accommodations, their departure leaving behind an atmosphere that felt heavier despite their physical absence.

Harold exhaled slowly once they were out of earshot. "That complicates matters."

"He came specifically to cause problems," Fedora said quietly, her expression showing certainty that confirmed Precognition had warned her. "His pride couldn't tolerate learning about our betrothal through public channels."

"Can we deny him attendance?" Raze asked, recognizing the question was naive even as he voiced it.

"Not without creating a diplomatic incident," Harold replied. "He was invited along with other neighboring kingdoms. Excluding him specifically would insult Astoria in ways that could justify hostile response."

"Then we proceed as planned," Fedora said firmly, her hand tightening on Raze's arm. "He can witness our engagement personally. Perhaps that will finally convince him to direct his attention elsewhere."

Raze met her gaze, seeing determination beneath the diplomatic mask. She'd anticipated this complication, had prepared for it through her Precognition. Whatever happened during the ceremony, she'd face it standing beside him.

"Two hours," Harold said, checking a pocket watch. "Let's ensure this engagement proceeds flawlessly despite our uninvited complications."

The palace resumed preparations, though tension now underscored every activity. Servants moved with added urgency, guards positioned themselves with increased vigilance, and the atmosphere shifted from celebration to something approaching defensive posture.

Raze returned to his quarters to complete final preparations, though his mind remained fixed on the Prince's arrival. The royal represented a threat beyond simple romantic rivalry. His pride had been publicly wounded through Fedora's betrothal to someone he clearly considered beneath his station.

That kind of injury didn't heal through ceremony attendance. It festered, growing into a grudge that would manifest in ways more dangerous than simple diplomatic tension.

Bephe settled at his feet while Raze sat reviewing his prepared remarks for perhaps the twentieth time. The small apex predator's presence provided comfort despite everything, reminder that he'd survived far worse than political complications.

The absurdity struck him again. In his previous life, he'd never dealt with nobility, never navigated political intrigue, never faced foreign princes whose pride he'd inadvertently wounded by existing. Now he was somehow supposed to handle this situation with grace he didn't actually possess.

He was making it up as he went along. Just like everything else in this new life.

The ceremony loomed two hours away, formal acknowledgment that would bind him publicly to Fedora while creating a permanent enemy in a Prince who'd just arrived bearing smiles that promised future conflict.

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