The twin spires of the Faeloria Royal Academy rose high above the noble district, glistening beneath the dawn's golden light. Forged with arcane-infused marble and ancient elven craftsmanship, the academy was not only a place of learning, but a cradle of influence, power, and political ties.
At the center of the arriving crowd stood Serenil Aetheryn, the halfblood prince of Faeloria, his gaze focused and proud. The embroidered crest of House Aetheryn glimmered on his shoulder—the silver phoenix wreathed in flame. Though only five years old, his bearing was calm and mature beyond his years.
By his side stood his five fiancées—each one a daughter of royalty, each one a living symbol of a political alliance forged in delicate negotiations and near-wars.
Astarotte Sylvarien, the cold and graceful succubus princess of the Nightveil Dominion, walked with precision and elegance. Her emerald cat-like eyes scanned the academy walls with cool appraisal, her golden hair gently cascading over her shoulders, her pink tail swaying lightly behind her.
Piglette Mariglen, the soft-spoken orc princess of the Verdant Horn Tribes, stood close to Serenil, her orange hair shining under the sun. Her gentle silver eyes blinked with curiosity, and her quiet presence exuded a warm strength that drew subtle admiration from the staff watching nearby.
Liselotte D'Armoire, the mermaid princess, nearly vibrated with excitement. "We're really going to school together!" she beamed, her webbed fingers gripping the edge of her satchel. Her light-blue hair sparkled, and her fan-like ear fins twitched joyfully.
Roanna Briarwyn, the vampire princess from the Crimson Pale Court, stood with refined posture, her twin crimson pigtails bound by large ribbons. Her heterochromatic eyes—red and green—shimmered with silent amusement. "This academy better live up to its reputation," she whispered, eyes twinkling.
And finally, Shuna Lysavelle, the ogre princess of the Ironhide Empire, moved with silent dignity. Her long, light pink hair framed her delicate human-like face, with small sharp fangs and two curved horns peeking from her forehead. She wore her uniform neatly, her eyes warm and observant. Though raised as royalty, her steps were light and her aura fiercely independent.
As the six approached the towering gates, the crowd of nobles and instructors parted in hushed murmurs. Whispers filled the air.
"That's the halfblood prince..."
"Those girls... they're all princesses from enemy kingdoms..."
"Unbelievable... He's taming empires with marriage?"
But Serenil ignored it. His golden eyes never wavered.
Standing at the entrance was the Headmaster, a tall high elf draped in robes stitched with runes older than the kingdom itself. "Prince Serenil Aetheryn," he greeted with a respectful bow. "And to each of you, noble princesses, I welcome you to the Royal Academy."
Serenil returned the bow with polite formality. "Thank you, Headmaster. We are honored to join this institution."
The Headmaster smiled knowingly. "History watches each step you take. May your time here forge more than alliances—may it forge legends."
As the bell tower rang out across the campus, Serenil turned to the five girls beside him—his future wives, his political anchors, his budding companions.
"Let's begin," he said.
And together, they stepped through the gates—not just as students, but as the next generation of rulers, bonded by fate, politics, and something deeper still beginning to bloom.