Mated To The Cruel Prince-Chapter 781: Death Duel —1

Note : I added more details in this Chapter to give an immersive imagination of the death duel. However, there would be less descriptions in the next Chapters. Thank you.

----------

Morning broke with a gentle, golden light that spilled across the horizon, gradually chasing away the darkness of night. The sky, once cloaked in the deep indigo of dawn, began to blush with soft hues of pink and orange, like the delicate strokes of an artist’s brush. The first rays of the sun stretched out over the land, bathing everything in a warm, amber glow.

But even with such warm glow filling the Fae realm, there was a palpable anticipation and tension in the air. Today was the D-day for the death duel and nearly every living creature in the realm was getting ready for it.

The news of the match between Prince Aldric of the Winter Court and Prince Valerie of the Summer Court had spread like wildfire across the various nature courts, igniting excitement and curiosity in every corner.

From the icy reaches of the Winter Court, where the cold winds howled through their ancient forests, to the sun-drenched meadows of the Summer Court, where golden light filtered through canopies of lush greenery, Faeries of all kinds prepared for the journey to Astaria.

It was a momentous event, one that promised not only a spectacle of power and skill but also the chance to see which court’s prince would emerge victorious.

Astaria, the neutral Fae city where the match would take place, had never been more alive. Its streets, usually bustling with Faeries of diverse backgrounds, were so crowded that staff from the palace had to come help the traffic control Faeries else a riot broke out in the streets.

The Winter Faeries, with their pale, ethereal beauty and auras of frost, moved through the city like living snowflakes, leaving a chill in their wake. They wore garments of shimmering ice-blue and silver, their breath forming small clouds in the air.

The Summer Faeries, by contrast, brought with them warmth and vibrancy. Their bronzed skin and their hair, ranging from golden to red, seemed to capture the very essence of the sun, and their clothing glowed with the colors of a perpetual summer.

The two courts had always been rivals, each believing in the superiority of their own season and the power it bestowed upon their princes. This match, then, was more than just a contest; it was a chance to prove which season reigned Supreme. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

It wasn’t even time yet however, the amphitheater where the event would go down was dangerously close to filling up. Faeries of all sizes and shapes filled the grand amphitheater, nor has the city of Astaria ever seen such a diverse gathering before. Not even during the history changing moment when King Oberon had been crowned the Supreme king of Astaria, uniting all the courts together.

The amphitheater itself was a circular structure of stone and magical enchantments, and was at the focal point of the city. It had been painstakingly prepared for the match, its seats draped with banners of silver and gold, representing the Winter and Summer Courts. Vines of ivy and roses intertwined with crystalline ice sculptures, creating a stunning symbolism of the balance of power between the two courts.

As if.

The air buzzed with anticipation as Faeries filled the stands. Whispers of speculation and bets exchanged hands as the crowd debated who would triumph—Prince Aldric, with his command over ice and snow, or Prince Valerie, with his mastery of fire and light.

Winter Faeries gathered in one section, their presence marked by a drop in temperature, while the Summer Faeries congregated in another, their laughter and chatter filling the air with warmth.

The tension between the two groups was palpable, each side eager to see their prince crowned as the victor, not just for the glory of their courts but also for the pride of their kin.

The Summer Faeries were boisterous — "noisemakers" as mocked by the winter court — and spoke of Prince Valerie’s legendary skills and the rumors that he now wielded the blue flame.

While the winter Faeries were reserved in nature — "arrogant peacocks" as mocked by the summer court — and unwavering in their royalty to prince Aldric even though he was half dark Fae.

Banners bearing the symbols of both courts fluttered in the breeze, standing in opposition yet equally matched in their brilliance..

The air grew still with expectation. All eyes on the entrance gates, waiting for the moment when the two princes would step into the arena and face each other. The outcome of this match would be etched into the annals of history, a moment that would be remembered for generations to come.

Meanwhile, at the palace, Queen Maeve stood tall and poised in her private chamber, surrounded by five maidens who attended to her with meticulous care. The maidens worked silently, their hands moving deftly as they prepared their queen.

Her hair, a rich cascade of red, had been swept up into an intricate updo that framed her face with a sense of both elegance and authority. The style accentuated her sharp, striking features, giving her an almost ethereal beauty that was as intimidating as it was captivating. Her eyes, a piercing shade of golden set against her complexion, were emphasized with expertly applied makeup that made them stand out even more, drawing attention to the intensity of her gaze.

As the finishing touches were applied, Maeve gazed at her reflection in the ornate mirror before her. Despite the loss of her Fae Queen title, she still commanded respect, still possessed the power to intimidate with a single glance. The maidens knew this as well, their hands trembling slightly as they fastened the final pins and adjusted the folds of her gown.

Her dress, a deep, velvety red, was a masterpiece of design—a perfect blend of regal sophistication and subtle sensuality. The bodice hugged her figure, emphasizing her slender waist and the graceful curve of her shoulders. The dress was adorned with subtle, yet exquisite embroidery, tiny golden threads that caught the light and shimmered like flames. The neckline was high, yet alluring, a balance of modesty and allure that spoke to Maeve’s ability to command both respect and desire.

However, it was the train of her dress that was truly a marvel. It was so enormous, so grand in scale, that it required three maidservants to lift and arrange it properly as she moved. The rich crimson fabric flowed like liquid fire behind her, a visual statement of her lingering power and presence. It was simply impossible to ignore.

Every detail of Queen Maeve’s appearance was calculated to impress and intimidate.

The crimson color was no accident; it was the shade of power, of passion, and of blood. It was a reminder to all who saw her that she was still a force to be reckoned with. This realm belonged to her.

The maidens stepped back, their task complete and bowing their heads in deference. Maeve took one final, appraising look at herself. Satisfied, she allowed a faint, almost imperceptible smile to touch her lips. She was ready.

As if timed, a knock echoed through the chamber. One of the maidens quickly moved to open the door, revealing two regal figures—Queen Nirvana of the Spring Court and Queen Victoria of the Autumn Court.

The sight of them immediately shifted the atmosphere in the room. It was clear that this impending duel was more than just a deadly contest between princes; it was also a stage for the queens to display their power and status, and their attire reflected this unspoken rivalry.

Queen Nirvana, as always, was a vision of elegance in the lush green hues of her court. Her hair was also styled in a sophisticated updo, adorned with delicate vines and blossoms that seemed to shimmer with life.

The green fabric of her gown hugged her figure perfectly, highlighting her natural beauty and the vitality that was synonymous with the spring court. She was stunning, but there was an air of competition in her eyes as they swept over Queen Maeve.

Queen Victoria, however, had opted for the rich, warm tones of her Autumn Court. Her gown was a deep, burnt orange, understated yet undeniably beautiful, evoking the fiery colors of fall leaves.

Unlike her counterparts, Queen Victoria’s style was more restrained, elegant without being ostentatious. Yet, despite her understated approach, she could not completely escape the shadow cast by Queen Maeve’s magnificent attire.

Among the three queens, it was Queen Maeve who undoubtedly stole the scene.

As Queen Nirvana’s gaze flickered over Maeve’s grand train and the shimmering crimson fabric, a flash of envy and irritation crossed her features.

Unable to contain herself, Nirvana sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "You look like a woman preparing for a pageant, not your son’s funeral."

Queen Maeve’s temper flared instantly at the insult, her eyes narrowing with barely restrained fury. She was ready to lash out, to put Nirvana in her place with a few choice words, when Queen Victoria stepped in between them, her voice firm and commanding.

"Enough," Victoria chided, her tone leaving no room for argument. "This is not the time for petty squabbles. We must stand united, if only for today."

Nirvana snorted dismissively but held her tongue, clearly unwilling to escalate the conflict further in Victoria’s presence. However, the tension between her and Maeve simmered just beneath the surface.

A sly smile curled at the corners of Maeve’s lips as an idea struck her. She leaned in slightly, her voice smooth and laced with mock sweetness. "Thank you for checking in, but I believe it’s time for me to join our husband. After all, time waits for no one."

With that, she swept out of the room, her massive train billowing behind her, leaving both Nirvana and Victoria in her wake. The implication of her words—her connection to the king—hung in the air, a final jab at the other queens.