The Grand Duke's Soulmate

Chapter 595: Before the Lanterns Rise

The entourage made their way towards the busy part of Sabel Island, descending along the worn stone path that opened into a sprawling harbour—Port Luminara, as the locals called it.

It was a sight that immediately drew the eye.

The docks stretched far into the glittering sea, lined with vessels of all sizes—merchant ships with billowing sails, sleek coastal cutters, and heavy cargo barges groaning under their loads.

Crates were stacked in uneven towers along the piers, while dockworkers shouted over one another, hauling ropes, rolling barrels, and guiding ships into their berths.

Carriages rattled over the cobbled paths, laden with freshly arrived goods—sacks of grain, crates of spices, bolts of dyed cloth, each bound for the markets deeper within the city.

Nearby, merchants had already begun their negotiations. Coins clinked as samples were inspected, the haggling continued in a relentless rhythm—voices rising, offers countered, and every exchange driven by the sharp edge of profit.

The air moved with a calm, steady breeze, carrying with it the mingled scents of the sea and commerce. It was, by all accounts, a good working day for them.

Before long, Eric returned with Noah at his side, weaving through the busy stretch of the waterfront lanes. He approached Kyren with a slight nod.

"The entourage has been registered at the port office, and the required taxes and documentation have been submitted. We also paid extra to secure lodging and accommodations."

Kyren acknowledged with a quiet glance, the matter concluded without further remark.

"So... was it always like this?" Eli murmured, glancing at the constant flow of people and goods, the port far busier than any of them had expected.

Captain Blackmane let out a low chuckle.

"Nay, lad. Ye be seein’ her at her busiest. Give it sometimes, an’ ye’ll not find room to breathe."

"It’s getting closer to what?" the young knight asked.

"The Lantern Festival," the pirate captain replied, gesturing lazily toward the town beyond the port. "A few days hence, an’ this harbour’ll be packed tighter than a miser’s chest."

Eli frowned slightly. "And how would you know that?"

Captain Blackmane shot him a look, one brow raised.

"Hah! Because I ain’t some greenhorn driftin’ blind. Mind ye, I hail from the eastern sea, same as half me crew. Mederian shores be no mystery to us."

He jerked his chin towards the heart of the port town.

"Cast yer eyes there."

Rising above the clustered rooftops stood the main plaza tower, tall and pale against the sky.

A banner hung from its peak, swaying in the sea wind—its silk dyed in warm hues of amber and gold.

Beneath it, a series of ornate frames had been erected around the tower’s midsection, each holding delicate lanterns shaped like blooming flowers.

Even unlit, they shimmered faintly, crafted from thin, polished paper and gilded ribs that caught the sunlight.

At the tower’s base, workers were already stringing lines across the streets—hundreds of lanterns waiting to be raised.

Some bore painted symbols of fortune and reunion, while others were left blank, meant for wishes yet to be written.

Rafe stood quietly amidst the bustle, his gaze lingering on the unlit lanterns swaying gently in the breeze. For a moment, the noise of the crowded shore seemed to fade.

Callis had told him about the festivals on Sabel Island, of streets glowing with light and laughter.

She had spoken of them with such warmth, such quiet joy, that he had found himself listening far longer than he intended.

Now, standing here, seeing it with his own eyes...

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it carried a weight behind it.

He could almost picture it—the lanterns lit, the sky alive with flickering gold, her voice beside him as she pointed out each detail with that familiar spark in her eyes.

A quiet yearning took root in his chest.

How he wished he could have stood there with her... not as a passing visitor, but as part of that moment—sharing it, just as she once had in her stories.

The thought lingered only for a fleeting moment before Captain Blackmane’s rough voice cut through, dragging him back to the present.

"See those lanterns? That be how they mark it," he added. "Lantern Festival comes every summer. Whole place’ll glow like the stars fell into the streets at night."

He clicked his tongue in disdain.

"An’ when that’s done, they’ll prance straight into their Love Festival. Bah! Nothin’ but song, drink, an’ fools chasin’ after pretty words." He spat to the side. "Waste o’ good time, if ye ask me."

His quartermaster then snorted.

"Not entirely useless, Cap’n. Festivals bring ships. Ships bring coin... or targets."

A few of the pirates nearby chuckled.

"Course," the quartermaster added with a shrug, "only once they leave Mederian waters."

Laughter rippled through their crew at that.

Drystan folded his arms, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.

"Really? And how many of these ’targets’ have you actually managed to catch?"

The laughter faltered.

Captain Blackmane’s expression darkened instantly.

"Mind yer tongue, whelp," he growled, a curse slipping under his breath as his hand twitched near his belt. "Lest I decide t’ show ye proper, aye?"

"I’d be happy to test that claim myself," Drystan mocked again as he stepped forward. The faint curl of his lips made it clear that this was no idle remark.

The knight had endured the pirates throughout the voyage, growing increasingly irritated. Their crude manners and ruthless tendencies had long worn thin on his patience, and now, standing on solid ground, he saw little reason to hold back.

Captain Blackmane’s gaze sharpened at the challenge.

"Careful, knight," he muttered, "Ye might find yerself outmatched."

Before either could take another step, Kyren’s voice cut cleanly through the tension as he appeared.

"That is enough."

Elis, who had been resting in his arms, was gently lowered to the ground. Athillia quickly took her hand, steadying her, while Armel remained close at her side, ever watchful.

Kyren’s gaze swept over both men, calm yet firm. "We are not here to make a commotion. Remember why we have come."

A brief silence followed, the earlier tension forced to subside.

Captain Blackmane gave a low huff before turning his attention back to the grand duke.

"Aye, then let’s be done with it. Me crew an’ I’ve seen ye safe to port, as agreed." His tone shifted, becoming more businesslike. "Time we be paid what’s owed."

Kyren inclined his head.

"Of course."

With a small gesture, he signalled his men. The crates containing the agreed-upon gold were brought forward and set before the pirates.

"You may take what is yours."

The pirates wasted no time, stepping in to claim the heavy chests.

"You may count it, if you wish," Kyren added.

Captain Blackmane waved a hand dismissively.

"No need. There be trust between us. We’ve sailed together and crossed blades with the Bargesians. Ye paid true then, an’ I’ve no reason t’doubt ye now."

Kyren studied him briefly, then asked, "What’s your next plan?"

Captain Blackmane’s grin grew broader, a spark of anticipation flickering in his eyes.

"First thing, I’ll be gettin’ meself a new ship—somethin’ worthy o’ the name. Not like that worn-out Balinger I’ve been draggin’ across the seas," he replied with pride. "That’ll suit a newly rich man just fine! We’ll sail high an’ proud, cuttin’ through the waves like kings o’ the tide—hahaha!"

"Then, good luck to you and thank you for escorting my entourage," Rafe interjected. "Your methods may test one’s patience, but your loyalty to a contract is unquestionable. You have my appreciation."

Though there had been quarrels and more than a few raised brows over the pirates’ behaviour, they had honoured their commitment and carried out their duty well.

Captain Blackmane gave a satisfied nod, clearly pleased.

"Aye, a fine bargain for both sides. Gold well earned, I’d say."

A voice suddenly interrupted the conversation from the side.

"Excuse me—!"

A merchant hurried toward them, slightly out of breath but clearly eager.

His eyes darted between the pirate captain and his crew, taking in their rugged appearance and the freshly claimed chests.

"You... you’re an escort company, aren’t you?" he asked, hope lighting his expression. "Mercenaries for hire?"

The pirates exchanged glances.

It seemed the man had no idea who they truly were.

Captain Blackmane, still beaming from the profitable exchange with the Grand Duke, turned toward the approaching merchant with open curiosity.

"An’ what might ye be wantin’ with us, then?" he asked.

The merchant produced his identification badge that confirmed his status as a registered trader.

"I have a vessel prepared and intend to sail to several nearby islands. However... with the festival approaching, the Mederian maritime guards are stretched thin. They’re unable to provide escort services for my cargo."

He gestured towards one of the ships crowding along the piers.

"My goods are valuable. I would rather not risk sailing unguarded, even within protected waters. I am willing to hire your team as my escort."

At that, several of the pirates exchanged glances, their eyes gleaming with barely concealed interest.

An unguarded merchant, valuable cargo—it sounded less like a job and more like an opportunity.

But as Captain Blackmane’s gaze flickered briefly toward Kyren and met the grand duke’s unyielding stare, his silent excitement faltered.

There was no need for words. The look alone was enough to deliver the ’do not invite trouble’ message.

Captain Blackmane let out a short breath, raising a hand slightly as he withdrew.

"Aye, no need t’ bare yer teeth."

He jerked his thumb toward the surrounding port.

"Stirrin’ trouble in Mederian waters? That’s a fine way t’ lose more than gold. Me crew ain’t that foolish. If we take this job, we do it right."

Kyren nodded silently, satisfied with the understanding.

The merchant, sensing hesitation, quickly pressed on.

"I will compensate you generously. You need not handle the goods. My men will see to all labour. You are only required to accompany us and ensure safe passage. It will only be for a month!"

Captain Blackmane’s brows lifted slightly.

If he chose the legal business approach, he had nothing to lose. No hauling, no real risk. Just presence... and payment.

He stroked his beard, interest returning.

"A month’s sail, ye say?" the pirate captain asked, his tone low.

"Around that, yes," the merchant replied quickly. "We’ll be moving between nearby islands—short routes, nothing too far out. If you agree, I’ll ensure the payment is well worth your time."

"Mmm..." Blackmane rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing with interest. "Now that does sound temptin’. Grimm! Care to join the fun?"

The merchant’s gaze shifted, landing on the old seaman who stepped forward at the call. He blinked, slightly taken aback.

"Is he one of your crew?" he asked.

"Nay. Not yet," the pirate captain said with a light chuckle. "But he’s got a keen eye for the sea—weather, routes, the lot. Havin’ him along would tip the odds nicely... even if he’s got a stubborn head on him."

"Really? If that’s so, then I’ll double the payment!" the merchant offered quickly.

The pirate captain’s brow lifted, interest piqued.

"Double, ye say? That’s a bold offer for a simple escort."

The merchant gave an eager nod.

"I’ve just come from the registration office. Word there is that your associates arrived from the continent—and in a remarkably short time," the merchant said, gesturing lightly toward Eric and Noah. "I happened to follow these two when they left, and... overheard your conversation just now."

Eric and Noah looked at each other before looking back at him. In the press of the crowd and the constant movement of people, neither had noticed they were being trailed—especially with the port office situated just beyond the main thoroughfare, where traffic flowed thick and unbroken.

"That kind of journey is no small accomplishment," the merchant continued. "You must be providing them with very capable protection."

Captain Blackmane let out a low chuckle. "Heh... So words travel fast, ey?"

"I’m pressed for time with the peak season upon us," the merchant replied. "I’ve been keeping a close eye on what I need."

He paused briefly before continuing, more pointed this time.

"I already have skilled sailors, and we’re set to leave by tomorrow. This is an urgent matter for me. I have everything prepared. What I lack... is a deterrent—someone others would hesitate to cross."

"What say ye, Grimm?" the pirate captain asked again.

The old seaman did not answer immediately. His gaze drifted past them, out towards the endless open sea.

He had spent most of his life on board. To sail again, to read the winds and currents, to navigate a course across open waters... the offer was difficult to ignore.

A faint glint of interest surfaced in his eyes, though his expression remained reserved.

Kyren noticed.

He spoke then, measured and composed, as if already weighing the outcome. He now held little concern about the pirates’ rough nature. Their captain was well aware of where boldness ended and carelessness began.

"You may go, if you wish," Kyren said. "We will remain within the Mederian territory for some time. By the time you return, we should be preparing to depart home."

He added, "We have already registered at the port office. It will not be difficult for you to find us again."

Grimm glanced at him, then gave a slow nod. "Aye... then I’ll take it."

A faint spark lit his eyes. The pirates’ company was far from ideal, yet the offer was difficult to refuse.

The voyage would take him across the eastern archipelagos, through waters he had never truly charted himself—a rare chance, perhaps once in a lifetime.

Captain Blackmane grinned.

"Good." He turned back to the merchant. "We’ll take the job."

The merchant breathed a visible sigh of relief. "Excellent! You have my gratitude. I’ll arrange the accommodation for your team right away!"

The pirate captain chuckled. "Save the thanks. Just make sure the pay matches yer promise."

With the agreement made, the pirate crew gathered their things, now joined by Seadog Grimm.

Without further delay, they parted ways with Rafe’s entourage and followed the merchant.

Kyren watched them go, his gaze lingering briefly as the pirates and their newly formed company disappeared into the crowd. The harbour swallowed them quickly—just another group among many, bound for their own pursuits.

Only when they were out of sight did he turn back to his men.

The bustle of the surroundings pressed in around them once more, but his voice remained steady.

"From now on, we keep our identities hidden," he decided. "We are travellers from the continent, nothing more. Until the time is right, we remain as such."

"Yes, my lord!" the knights replied in unison.

Kyren exhaled lightly. "No titles, please."

The men exchanged a glance.

"Then... what should we call you?" Alex asked, uncertain.

"Just my name," the grand duke said.

Frowns followed a brief silence.

"That’s just... awkward," Noah muttered. "I understand your intent, but none of us would feel right addressing you so plainly. And if we’re truly trying to stay unnoticed, wouldn’t it be better to take on different names altogether?"

"We can use our given names. They’re common enough not to draw attention," Eric said.

"Agreed!" Athillia chimed in, though she quickly paused and turned to Elis. "Would that be all right with you?"

"I have no objections," the princess consort replied gently. "I will follow what is best for everyone."

"Then it’s settled. We’ll go by our first names," Eli said, earning nods from the rest.

"However..." Eric added, his tone shifting as he glanced toward Kyren, "Kyren Raychard..." He shook his head. "That one stands out too much. Someone might recognise it."

The grand duke fell into thought. Then, as if recalling the exchange with the pirates moments ago, a faint idea took shape.

"Call me ’Captain Ky’," he said at last.

"Captain Ky?" Luke echoed. "Just that?"

Kyren gave a small nod. ’Ky’ was a simple name that his nieces had called him.

"We’ll pass as a group of escorts. Escorts rarely bring their surname into business. It fits well enough and draws less suspicion."

"That... actually makes sense," Noah admitted.

"If that’s the case, then I want to be known as Joseph," Rafe interjected.

"Joseph?" Alex asked, brow raised.

"Yes. My middle name is Joseph," Rafe replied calmly.

Eric smirked. "I still prefer Rafael."

The healer shot him a flat look. "Keep that name on your tongue, and you might find something unpleasant mixed into your next meal."

Eric let out a brief laugh. "Fine, Joseph. You’re the leader of our entourage. So, Joseph, it is."

With that decided, the group seemed to ease, their roles quietly falling into place.

Kyren—now Captain Ky—turned his attention back to the task at hand.

"Let’s move to our lodging and have some rest. We’ve got a long day tomorrow."

They nodded and quickly headed out. The remaining crew gathered their possessions, ready to leave the busy docks.

Above them, the unfinished lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, waiting for the nights when they would finally be set aglow.

This year’s Lantern Festival would not pass quietly—not with the Cassians now set upon the Mederian shores.