The Regression Of A Grand Mercenary

With the princess’s sudden arrival, the entire hall was thrown into chaos.

Whispers rippled through the air like wildfire—nobles and merchants exchanging startled glances as servants froze mid-step.

Velorria Goldensun.

Even her name carried weight heavier than gold itself. The prodigy princess. The reformer of the royal bloodline. The one they called the Dawn of the New Age.

No one could ignore her—not the merchants who owed their fortunes to the crown, nor the nobles who feared her ambitions.

But the one most shaken by her arrival… was me.

I had been expecting this day. Maybe not now, not this soon, but deep down I always knew the past would catch up eventually.

And now it has.

I tried to steady my breathing, but my pulse refused to slow. No matter how calm I acted, I could feel the faint tremor in my hands.

“Easy… stay calm.” I muttered under my breath.

There was no point in panicking. Whatever she came for, it wasn’t me—at least, not entirely. Velorria never did anything without a reason.

She’s not the kind of person to chase after personal whims. Not anymore.

She stood before the crowd with that same serene smile that made even seasoned aristocrats uneasy. Her single uncovered eye gleamed with purpose. Despite the elegant gown and royal jewelry, there was something undeniably dangerous about her presence—like a blade hidden beneath silk.

“Sir Reginald,” she began, her voice firm yet graceful, “forgive the intrusion. I came only out of curiosity.”

A hush fell over the room.

Evelyn’s mother, Emilia, was the first to recover. “P-Princess Velorria, although it is a surprise that you came without notice, we welcome you to our gathering.”

Velorria smiled softly. “Thank you, Lady Emilia. I heard my brother stopped by this morning. So I thought it best to visit as well—if only to clear a few things.”

At that statement, both Reginald and Emilia exchanged a glance. So that was it. She came not as a guest, but as a representative of her own position in politics. A player in the political game already unfolding behind closed doors.

Still… something told me it wasn’t just that.

Her gaze lingered. Just for a moment. On me.

I quickly averted my eyes.

Even after all this time, I could still feel the weight of that stare—sharp, heavy, and strangely… longing.

If she came here, then she must have known I’d be here too. There’s no way she wouldn’t.

But why now?

She knows how dangerous it is to stand near me again.

After exchanging formalities, Velorria requested a private audience with the Amber family to discuss her brother’s morning visit. Reginald, though cautious, agreed to meet her later once the banquet concluded.

Until then, the princess chose to mingle among the guests.

And like moths to flame, everyone followed.

Wherever she moved, people gathered—nobles eager to curry favor, merchants desperate to impress. Her voice carried charm and confidence, each word a subtle spell that made everyone believe she truly was destined to rule.

I stayed by Evelyn’s side, silent, simply observing. She, however, couldn’t hide her curiosity.

“Should we… talk to her?” she asked softly.

I hesitated. “…If you want to.”

With that determined glint in her eyes, she approached.

“Your Highness,” Evelyn greeted with a polite bow. “I wanted to thank you personally for the letter you sent about the festival.”

Velorria turned, smiling faintly. “Ah, Miss Evelyn Amber. I’m glad it reached you safely. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

Her tone was warm, smooth, practiced.

“May I ask why you invited me?” Evelyn said gently.

The question drew a few curious glances from nearby guests.

Velorria paused for a moment, then smiled with a mix of pride and sincerity. “Because I wish to bring change—to break down the outdated laws that have chained this kingdom for too long. I plan to inherit the crown one day, and when I do, I’ll make sure our world moves forward. Not through lineage or title… but through merit and will.”

The conviction in her voice was powerful. Everyone nearby could feel it. Even Evelyn’s mother nodded quietly at such bold words.

But for me… it brought only unease.

Because I knew what kind of person Velorria truly was.

I knew the cost behind her idealism—the betrayal, the blood, the madness that slowly consumed her in pursuit of her “new age.”

That same dangerous light flickered again in her eye when she turned to face us.

“By the way,” she said casually, “is this the young man you were accompanied by, Miss Evelyn? I heard a bit about him.”

Evelyn’s face brightened. “Yes! This is Thill. He’s my—”

Before she could finish, Velorria extended her hand toward me. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Cicial.”

Her hand was warm, delicate, trembling faintly.

As I took it, time seemed to slow.

Our eyes met.

“…Velorria.” I whispered before I could stop myself.

Her lips curved faintly. “Oh? You speak my name so familiarly… Have we met before?”

That tone—light, teasing, calculated. She was pretending.

But that single uncovered eye of hers said otherwise. It trembled, filled with something deep and painful.

Evelyn, standing beside me, quickly caught on.

Her smile faltered as she sensed the tension—Velorria’s faint blush, the way her gaze refused to leave mine, the almost imperceptible tightening of her grip.

A woman’s instinct.

And it screamed danger.

Her hand subtly wrapped around my arm, holding tighter than before.

“Actually, Your Highness,” Evelyn said cheerfully, “Thill and I are lovers.”

The world froze.

Velorria blinked once. Then smiled.

“Ah… I see,” she said softly.

But the faint twitch of a vein on her forehead betrayed her calmness.

What followed was an awkward exchange of polite laughter—Velorria’s tone sweet as honey, Evelyn’s equally bright yet firm.

Their smiles didn’t reach their eyes.

And I, standing between them, felt as if someone had tossed me into a field of landmines.

“L-lovers, you say?” Velorria asked, voice light yet trembling.

“Yes,” Evelyn said proudly, her voice gaining a hint of possessiveness. “We’ve known each other for a while now.”

“I see… how wonderful.”

That was all she said before elegantly stepping back, maintaining perfect posture, perfect grace—but the faint crack in her mask was obvious.

Her aura wavered, just slightly.

For someone as composed as Velorria, that was the equivalent of screaming.

Evelyn, though smiling, could tell. She leaned closer to me and whispered, “Did she… just glare at me?”

“…I think she did.” I whispered back.

“Why?”

“…No idea.”

And so, the rest of the evening carried that strange tension.

Every time our eyes met, Velorria smiled sweetly—but her gaze was cold, sharp, almost venomous. Evelyn never left my side. And I… just prayed the night would end soon.

When the last guests departed and the hall finally quieted, only a few of us remained.

Velorria stayed behind.

Sir Reginald, ever the composed host, approached her. “Your Highness, if you still wish to speak privately, my office is available.”

She nodded graciously. “I would appreciate that.”

Reginald motioned for me to follow—apparently, my presence was requested as well.

Inside the office, the air was heavy.

Velorria sat gracefully across from Reginald’s desk, her hands folded neatly on her lap. The flickering lamplight reflected off the gold trim of her royal attire.

And beside her was surprisingly Rais Luxly…the man who spoke to me before in the halls. It all made sense now that why he was here. And it was to protect none other than Velorria herself. But through out her social mingling with the nobles and merchants, he had stayed at the side watching carefully as how the people puppetered themselves in front of her.

Now that she stand be her own inside the private office of Reginald, he took on the initiative to stand beside her as her guard.

As for me, I stood beside Evelyn carrying my sword and acting out the role of guard.

Before long Velorria was the first to speak.

“I believe your visitor this morning—my brother—spoke of matters concerning the throne.” she said smoothly.

Reginald nodded slowly. “Yes. Prince Vello came earlier, requesting our family’s support for his political advancement. Although he wasn’t direct with his claim, its clear from our conversation that he aims to inherit the crown as well. The same as you princess.”

He leaned back, exhaling deeply. “He said that with the merchants’ influence, he could strengthen his hold over the markets and rally support among the common class. But I have yet to decide.”

Hearing this, both me and Evelyn were taken aback. The reason now for his visit early in the morning was now clear… but was it all that easy to understand? Was it all about gaining the support of one of the vital powers of the kingdom? Merchants always have a strong stand with it comes to the people…their influence isn’t something to be looked down upon…yet it also isn’t something to be completely honored for in levels of nobility.

Merchants simply stand in the middle of all political stances. Unless certain merchants stand with a bias towards a certain party of politics, its mostly known for them to stand in the center.

After hearing Reginald’s confirmation, Velorria’s lips curved. “Of course. My brother is ambitious… but ambition without restraint can easily burn the world.”

But her reply simply caused me to think otherwise.

‘Is that really your voice, Velorria? Those words of restraint and mercy… coming from the woman who once drowned a continent in blood? How can you stand there, pretending the past never happened?’ I thought as I stared in disbelief over her words.

“Then I assume you have a counterproposal?” Reginald asked cautiously.

Velorria’s smile deepened. “Naturally. I wish to bring forth a new age—an age where the kingdom is guided by progress, not bound by bloodlines. Where trade, magic, and knowledge shape our power, not the whims of old nobility. Although I wish to do it without the hassle of inheriting the crown…change can only be made when a certain power stands above all.”

Her words echoed in the small room like a quiet storm.

“So you don’t exactly want to inherit the crown?” asked Evelyn as she was completely surprised by this.

“…Yes. Although it’s hard to believe knowing my boasting throughout the months, I have no interest in taking the crown…but I know my brother. Its most likely that he will maintain the current traditions of the kingdom, both good and the bad.” she said.

Emilia folded her arms. “And you expect us to believe you’re different from your brother? Although I mean no insult, changing a country simply because a person inherits its crown isn’t always as simple as it may seem.”

Velorria chuckled softly. “Believe what you wish, Lady Emilia. But I tell you this, I am capable of changing the country…simply by my words.” she said confidently.

The room fell silent.

I stood quietly in the corner, but my thoughts were a storm of their own.

She wasn’t bluffing.

I could hear it in her tone—that same conviction she once had when we fought together in wars. Before everything burned.

She had regressed too.

That meant… she remembered everything. She knew her capabilities in leading the country…

The betrayal. The fall. The day the kingdom drowned in its own ambition…and rose back up again under her rule.

And she was here again, but strangely enough…she was disinterested in inheriting the crown. Her voice when speaking about that issue sounded less of a lie. It sounded truthful.

I could tell that she was genuinely not willing to inherit the crown.

Why?

“…Not wanting to take the crown, yet still wanting to change the country…those two contradict with one another. If you were to take the crown with this kind of mindset…I would be worried for its future. So tell me, why?” I asked as I spoke out of turn.

The air thickened. Even the flame of the lamp beside us flickered as if hesitating to burn.

“…”

Everyone in the room listened and were taken aback by my words…yet I remained stoic and stared at Velorria.

For once in this new life, I stared at her without any sense of fear placed in my expression. I was simply curious as to why…

Yet as I asked…Velorria stared at me with teary eyes.

And then I realized…

Its been a while…no…its been years since we spoke genuinely without fear placed in my heart towards her…a person who brought a certain trauma into my life. I spoke to her as if none of those things happened.

Despite the shimmer of tears, she didn’t break. Instead, she gathered every piece of her composure, like shards of glass forming a crown, and smiled.

“Because… crowns are not blessings,” she began, her voice steady yet brimming with a quiet fire.

“They are not trophies for the victorious, nor symbols of glory. Crowns are burdens—worn only by those who dare to bear the weight of responsibility.”

She took a slow breath, her gaze sweeping across the hall, meeting the eyes of Evelyn and her parents.

“And I,” she continued, her voice rising with conviction, “will bear that weight. Not out of pride, but because I believe this nation can still change. No longer will I stand idle as it drifts toward ruin!”

Her words echoed against the marble walls, stirring a silence that felt almost sacred.

Although the Amber family was taken aback by her prideful words, I remained doubtful.

Reginald exhaled deeply, the weight of her declaration hanging thick in the air. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, his fingers brushing against the edge of his desk before finally speaking.

“…You speak with conviction, Your Highness,” he began slowly, his tone measured, careful. “And I will admit, your vision carries a sense of purpose this kingdom desperately needs.”

He paused, his eyes shifting toward the parchment-strewn table beside him—the one filled with notes, letters, and crests from the royal family.

“However,” he continued, “the matter of the throne is not one that can be decided by passion alone. Your brother made his case this morning, and now you stand before me with yours. But you both know as well as I do… there are other players at the table.”

Velorria’s smile thinned, though she said nothing.

“The second prince has the backing of the southern nobles,” Reginald went on, his tone growing heavier. “The third princess—though young—has the favor of the Church. And the Queen’s influence… still lingers in the high court. Even the merchant houses have begun splitting their loyalties. One wrong decision, Your Highness, and my family’s name could be swept away by the tide.”

He looked her straight in the eye.

“So forgive me if I say that I must think this over carefully. I cannot afford to act on sentiment or sympathy. I have my people, my business, and my daughter’s future to safeguard.”

The words hung cold between them.

Velorria’s expression remained poised—graceful even—but I caught it. A tiny flicker of something behind her calm facade. Disappointment? Annoyance? It was hard to tell.

“…Of course,” she said at last, her voice calm and composed. “It is only right that you weigh your options. After all, a wise man does not choose his allies lightly.”

Her gaze shifted subtly toward me as she said it, her single eye gleaming like gold under candlelight.

And just like that, the room felt smaller—tenser.

Because in that glance… I could tell she wasn’t just talking about Reginald’s alliances.

As Velorria rose from her seat, Sir Reginald and Evelyn both instinctively followed suit. Though her visit had been unannounced, she was still royalty—and custom dictated that a guest of her stature should never depart unattended.

“Your Highness, allow us to see you to the door.” Reginald offered, his voice respectful, almost formal now.

Velorria chuckled softly. “Ah, such courtesy… you honor me too much, Sir Reginald.”

Evelyn stepped forward beside her father, her expression warm but cautious. “It would be improper otherwise, Your Highness. Please, allow us.”

Velorria hesitated for a moment, then inclined her head. “Very well.”

The group made their way through the corridor, the gentle rhythm of footsteps echoing against the polished marble floor. Servants paused and bowed as they passed—each one lowering their gaze until the princess had gone by.

Even without a crown on her head, Velorria carried herself like one born to wear it. Her movements were fluid, measured, as though the palace itself once moved to her command.

When they reached the grand doors of the Amber estate, Reginald gave a courteous nod. “It has been an honor to receive Your Highness under our roof. The Amber family thanks you for your time.”

Velorria turned to him with a radiant, practiced smile. “And I thank you for lending me yours. I understand the burden such decisions carry… and I assure you, Sir Reginald, whatever choice you make—I will respect it.”

Her gaze shifted briefly toward Evelyn, then finally—toward me. The warmth in her smile dimmed, replaced by something quieter, more personal.

“Farewell for now,” she said softly, the words heavy with meaning. “I pray our next meeting will not be under such… uncertain skies.”

She stepped through the doorway, her guards falling into formation behind her. The sight of the Goldensun banner fluttering against the evening wind marked her departure—a symbol that shone beautifully under the dying light… yet carried the quiet promise of conflict to come.

And as the doors closed behind her, a hush fell over the hall—leaving only the faint scent of perfume and the unspoken tension she’d left in her wake.