Strongest Kingdom: My Op Kingdom Got Transported Along With Me-Chapter 135: Innate Ability

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After a swift yet precise fitting session, the tailor assures them the garments will be ready within the hour. Alix and Draya take the opportunity to explore the nearby market, eventually returning to collect their attire.

Dressed in their newly acquired ensembles, they stand before a polished mirror. Alix adjusts the cuffs of his doublet, the silver embroidery catching the light. "We'll blend in seamlessly."

Draya smooths the fabric of her gown, the emerald hue accentuating her complexion. "Indeed, Your Majesty."

As evening descends upon Firion, the city lights shimmer in anticipation of the grand banquet. Alix and Draya, now attired to match the nobility, make their way toward the palace, ready to infiltrate the event and uncover the insights they seek.

With the aid of an item, Alix and Draya slip unnoticed into the grand palace. They navigate through opulent corridors toward the banquet hall.

Inside, the banquet is in full swing. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the vast hall, illuminating tables laden with sumptuous dishes and goblets brimming with fine wines. The air hums with the murmur of noble conversations and the gentle strains of a string quartet. Alix and Draya, now visible and seamlessly blending with the attendees, find seats at a less conspicuous table near the periphery.

Alix surveys the array of culinary delights before selecting a plate of roasted pheasant glazed with honey and herbs. He savors each bite, the flavors a testament to the palace's renowned chefs. Draya, seated beside him, observes intently, noting the dishes that capture his favor. As his personal maid and head of the royal household staff, understanding his preferences is second nature.

She leans in slightly, her voice soft to avoid drawing attention. "Your Majesty seems to favor the pheasant this evening," she remarks, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

Alix nods, dabbing his lips with a linen napkin. "Indeed, it's exceptionally prepared. The balance of sweetness and savor is delightful."

Draya's eyes flicker to the other dishes. "And the saffron-infused rice? Does it complement the pheasant to your liking?"

He samples a forkful, considering. "It's palatable, though perhaps a touch over-seasoned for my taste."

She notes this with a subtle nod, filing the information away. "I'll ensure the palace chefs are informed of your preferences."

Alix offers a faint smile. "Your attention to detail is, as always, impeccable."

Their exchange is discreet, masked by the ambient noise of the banquet. Draya's role extends beyond mere service; her insights into his tastes and habits are invaluable, especially in unfamiliar settings. As the evening progresses, Alix continues to sample various dishes, while Draya remains vigilant, attuned to his reactions and the subtleties of his palate.

As the evening progresses, the grand doors of the banquet hall swing open with a resounding echo, drawing the attention of the assembled nobility. A hush falls over the room as King Erwin strides in, exuding regal authority in his deep crimson robes adorned with golden embroidery. His golden crown, encrusted with precious gems, catches the light of the chandeliers, casting a subtle shimmer.

Beside him walks Prince Asdri, the kingdom's celebrated hero. His tall, athletic frame is clad in a tailored ensemble of midnight blue, accentuated by a sash bearing the royal insignia. His chiseled features and confident demeanor immediately captivate the room.

A collective sigh seems to ripple through the hall as many of the ladies find their gazes irresistibly drawn to the prince. Fans flutter to cool suddenly warm cheeks, and whispered admirations circulate discreetly.

Alix, seated at a table near the periphery, observes the scene with a neutral expression. Draya, ever attentive, leans in slightly.

"Your Majesty," she murmurs, "This human prince appears to have quite the effect on the ladies of the court."

Alix's lips curve into a faint, knowing smile. "It's to be expected. A returning hero, especially one of his stature, often becomes the focus of admiration."

As King Erwin and Prince Asdri take their seats at the elevated table, the hall's steward steps forward, his voice carrying over the assembled guests. "Let the festivities continue in honor of our esteemed guests!"

The musicians strike up a lively tune, and the banquet resumes its merry pace.

As the evening progresses, the harmonious strains of a waltz begin to emanate from the orchestra, signaling the commencement of the dance. Nobles throughout the grand hall rise from their seats, gracefully selecting partners and moving toward the center of the room. The atmosphere is charged with anticipation, yet many eyes subtly drift toward Prince Asdri, awaiting his choice.

Seated beside Alix at their table on the periphery, Draya observes the unfolding scene with quiet interest. When Prince Asdri stands and begins to stride purposefully across the dance floor, she assumes he is approaching one of the many eager noblewomen vying for his attention.

However, as the prince's path becomes clear, a ripple of surprise courses through the assembly. Conversations hush, and all eyes follow his trajectory—directly toward Alix and Draya's table. Alix's brow furrows slightly, his posture tensing as he senses the shift in the room's focus.

Halting before their table, Prince Asdri offers a courteous bow, his eyes locking onto Draya's. "My lady," he begins, his voice smooth and resonant, "would you honor me with this dance?"

A collective gasp ripples through the assembly. Whispers surge like an undercurrent:

"Who is she?"

"I've never seen her before."

The noblewomen, their initial admiration now tinged with envy, cast daggers with their eyes toward Draya.

Draya remains poised, her smile unwavering, though internally, a flicker of annoyance stirs. As a being of monster origin now cloaked in human guise, she feels disgusted being fancied by humans.

She rises gracefully, offering Prince Asdri a respectful nod. "Your Highness, I am deeply honored by your invitation. However, I must humbly decline.

The hall falls into stunned silence. A noblewoman seated nearby leans toward her companion, her voice a hushed whisper yet audible in the quiet.

Prince Asdri's expression remains composed, though a flicker of surprise dances in his eyes. He inclines his head, a gracious smile gracing his lips. "I understand. The honor was mine to extend."

With that, he turns and retreats, leaving a sea of bewildered and curious faces in his wake. Draya resumes her seat beside Alix, who regards her with an amused glint.

"Quite the impression you've made," he murmurs, his tone laced with subtle mirth.

Draya's smile remains, her eyes reflecting a hint of exasperation. "It was not my intention to become the center of attention."

As the waltz melody continues to weave through the grand hall, Draya leans slightly toward Alix, her voice low and meant only for him.

"Your Majesty," she murmurs, "would you care to dance?"

Alix's eyes flicker with hesitation. "I would like to," he admits quietly, "but I must confess, I don't know how."

Draya's brow furrows slightly. "But I recall you've danced before, and quite well."

Alix offers an awkward smile, searching for words. "Let's just say, it's been a while. Perhaps you could guide me? I'm a quick study."

A soft chuckle escapes Draya's lips. "Very well, Your Majesty. Shall we?"

Alix rises, extending his hand to her. "Lead the way."

They move toward the dance floor, finding a space among the swirling couples. Draya positions herself before Alix, placing his right hand on her shoulder blade and clasping his left hand in hers.

"Follow my lead," she instructs gently. "Step forward with your left foot."

Alix complies, and together they begin the basic box step of the waltz: forward with the left foot, side with the right, then close the left foot to the right. Draya guides him through the sequence, her movements fluid and assured. Alix mirrors her steps, his confidence growing with each measure.

As Alix and Draya continue their waltz, he notices Prince Asdri observing them intently from across the ballroom. A subtle smirk tugs at Alix's lips as he recalls the information he gleaned earlier using his system.

"Draya," Alix murmurs, maintaining the rhythm of their dance, "did you observe Prince Asdri's reaction when you declined his invitation?"

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Draya's eyes flicker toward the prince briefly before returning to Alix. "I did, Your Majesty. He seemed surprised but remained composed."

Alix's smirk deepens. "Indeed. There's more to him than meets the eye. He possesses an innate ability—a sixth sense."

Draya raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "A sixth sense? Like an enhanced intuition?"

"Precisely," Alix confirms. "As you already know, some individuals are born with unique talents that set them apart. This sixth sense allows one to perceive dangers or subtleties that others might overlook, it's a rare gift."

As they continue to waltz, Alix maintains a composed expression, his eyes subtly scanning the room to ensure their conversation remains private.

"Though," he continues, "I'm uncertain if Prince Asdri is aware of his own innate ability."

Draya considers this, her gaze steady. "Your Majesty, if he were aware, wouldn't he have already attempted to have us arrested?"

Alix nods slightly, acknowledging her point. "I suppose you're right. It's best we take our leave now."

Though Alix feels no fear, he wishes to avoid causing a scene at this moment. There are still matters to attend to in Valgros.

With a final graceful turn, they conclude their dance. Alix offers a polite bow to Draya, who curtsies in response. Together, they navigate through the throng of nobles, their exit as unremarkable as their entrance.

After slipping away from the palace unnoticed, Alix and Draya navigate the dimly lit streets of Firion. The city's nightlife is vibrant, with lanterns casting a warm glow over bustling marketplaces and lively taverns. They proceed toward the most luxurious inn in the city, The Gilded Lily, its reputation for discretion and comfort unmatched.