The General's Daughter: The Mission

The royal delegation from Zalmeria was escorted to the VIP table, positioned closest to the stage.

At the center stood a massive square glass showcase containing the treasured relics of the Kromwel Dynasty. Bathed in warm golden light, the display rotated slowly, granting every distinguished guest an unobstructed view of the dazzling jewels, priceless artifacts, and centuries-old heirlooms from every angle.

Rows of elegantly draped rectangular tables filled the grand ballroom, each carefully arranged to face the platform so no guest would miss the evening’s centerpiece.

As the royal delegation was escorted to the front, conversations gradually softened.

The Crown Prince of Zalmeria immediately became the center of attention.

Towering over most of the men around him, he carried himself with the effortless confidence of one born to command. Every measured step reflected years of royal discipline. The jade crown securing his copper-colored hair gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers. His hair was tied into a refined topknot while the remaining silken strands flowed neatly down his back, stopping just above his waist.

His most striking feature, however, was his pair of luminous amber eyes—eyes said to belong only to the pureblooded descendants of Zalmeria’s royal house.

Even Lara found herself watching him. Perhaps sensing her gaze, the prince turned.

Their eyes met.

For the briefest moment, the bustling ballroom seemed to fade into silence.

His amber eyes brightened with quiet curiosity before a faint, courtly smile curved his lips.

To Lara’s surprise, the Crown Prince excused himself from his entourage and walked directly toward her.

As he drew closer, she finally understood why poets compared amber eyes to liquid sunlight. They were neither gold nor brown, but something exquisitely rare that shimmered with warmth and quiet authority.

The stories were true.

Only the royal bloodline of Zalmeria possessed such features.

Stopping a respectful distance before her, the prince inclined his head—a gesture that carried both courtesy and dignity.

”I had believed,” he said in a calm, melodious voice, ”that no beauty beyond Zalmeria could rival that of my royal mother and sisters.”

His smile deepened almost imperceptibly.

”It appears I was mistaken.”

His words were undeniably complimentary, yet delivered with the composure expected of a future monarch rather than the recklessness of an impulsive noble.

Lara returned a graceful curtsy.

”You honor me with your generous words, Your Highness.”

As she lowered herself, a strange sense of familiarity tugged at her thoughts.

The prince’s bearing...

His refined speech...

Even the quiet confidence he exuded...

They reminded her of Angus—Alaric’s personal guard, who almost died when he blocked a sword for him. Only afterward had she learned that Aramis himself was a prince.

The Crown Prince of Zalmeria watched her rise, and for a fleeting instant, surprise flickered across his composed features.

Her curtsy...the precision of her etiquette...

The effortless grace with which she carried herself...

Those were not the manners of an ordinary woman.

One would think she had been educated within a royal court.

”May I know your name?” he asked.

Before Lara could answer, a tall figure stepped smoothly to her side.

Ares.

The movement was subtle, almost casual, yet unmistakably possessive. His presence created an invisible barrier between Lara and the prince without violating a single rule of etiquette.

”This is Larissa Reyes, Crown Prince,” Ares said evenly.

Prince Yohannes’s gaze shifted to him.

For the first time since entering the ballroom, the warmth in his amber eyes cooled ever so slightly.

The heir of the Zubel family had not uttered a discourteous word. Yet the message behind his timing was unmistakable.

She is not yours to approach freely.

The prince held Ares’s gaze for a heartbeat before offering the faintest of smiles—the kind exchanged between powerful men who understood that the first move in a contest was rarely spoken aloud.

...

The lights dimmed.

The host announced that the auction would start and that the first item was the diamond jewelry set Lara was wearing.

Lara ascended the stage with quiet poise.

Her ivory gown flowed around her like liquid silk, the layered skirt whispering softly against the polished marble with every measured step. There was no trace of nervousness in her movements. Her back remained perfectly straight, her chin slightly raised, carrying herself with an elegance that seemed effortless rather than rehearsed.

She stopped at the center of the platform.

Then the spotlight found her.

A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom.

The tiara resting upon her dark hair sparkled like a crown of captured starlight. The magnificent necklace embraced the graceful line of her neck, while the matching earrings shimmered with every subtle movement, their brilliance magnified beneath the warm golden lights.

For a brief moment...

Lara became the brightest jewel in the room.

Every eye turned toward her.

Some admired her breathtaking beauty.

Some envied the woman privileged enough to wear treasures that kingdoms would once have waged wars to possess.

Others weren’t looking at Lara at all.

Their eyes remained fixed on the priceless Kromwel heirlooms, silently calculating their value and wondering how far they were willing to go to acquire them.

Anton’s gaze lingered unabashedly on Lara herself. There was an unmistakable hunger in his eyes.

Aquilo noticed every lingering glance. His expression hardened. He had already figured it out.

Anton had never truly been interested in the necklace.

He wanted Lara.

That damned old lecher, Aquilo thought, suppressing the urge to march across the ballroom and wipe that covetous look off the man’s face.

Yet almost immediately, another thought surfaced, one that stung far more than Anton’s unwanted attention.

Earlier that evening, he had seen Crown Prince Yohannes standing beside Lara as though they belonged in the same world.

Later, Ares had done the same.

Both men possessed the kind of status and influence that made even the wealthiest guests tread carefully.

Aquilo’s fingers unconsciously curled into fists.

Not long ago, Lara had been the young girl he had patiently taught to drive.

The woman he had rescued time and again without a second thought.

Back then, she had been within arm’s reach.

Now... She had become like the moon. Radiant and unreachable.

A celestial beauty admired by countless men, yet forever beyond the grasp of someone like him.

For the first time in years, the decorated colonel felt painfully aware of the distance between the life he lived...and the world Lara now belonged to.

...

The moment the auctioneer opened the bidding for the royal jewelry set, Anton raised his paddle.

”Fifty thousand.”

Another paddle followed. Then another.

The bidding escalated at a dizzying pace. Billionaires entered the fray, followed by an overseas collector determined to claim the Kromwel treasures.

Anton matched every offer without hesitation.

Each time the auctioneer called, he raised the price again, determined to leave with the necklace that had captivated him.

”One Million!”

A deep, commanding voice cut through the ballroom.

At last, the room fell silent. Then a collective gasp swept across the hall.

Anton stiffened. It was an outrageous figure—even for him.

Slowly, he turned toward the bidder.

The color drained from his face.

It was Crown Prince of Zalmeria.

How could an ordinary businessman hope to compete with royalty?