The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power Chapter 245: Oliver Arrived

Prince Adam's POV:

I looked at the guest list Mother had sent over and smiled helplessly.

As expected, Cindy's name wasn't on it.

"Your Highness, should I ask Her Majesty to add Her Grace's name?" Julian asked from the side. "It is being held at your residence. Wouldn't it be strange if your fiancée didn't attend?"

"No need."

I tossed the list onto the table and actually felt relieved. "My mother doesn't mean any real harm, but her mouth is sharp. If Cindy showed up, she'd probably end up taking a lot of passive-aggressive jabs. Those tea parties are boring anyway. A bunch of women comparing dresses and jewelry. Cindy wouldn't enjoy it. It's better this way. At least she won't have to deal with the frustration."

I picked up my pen and wrote Cindy a letter.

I told her about the tea party and asked her not to take it personally, and to rest at home instead.

Honestly, I knew Cindy well enough. With her personality, she would much rather stay far away from events like that.

...

Cindy's POV:

At the Silverpeak Ducal Estate, snow was falling heavily outside, while the fireplace inside burned warmly.

I held Prince Adam's letter, read it through, and then casually set it aside.

"A tea party?" Diana yawned in my mind. "A pack of she-wolves showing off their fur? Boring beyond belief. Better not to go. If I did, I might not be able to stop myself from biting someone."

"Exactly what I thought," I said with a smile as I turned toward the desk piled high with notes.

They were military journals left behind by Father and my older brothers.

I had been organizing them these past few days.

Many of Father's tactical ideas were still remarkably advanced, even by modern standards.

I wanted to compile them, combine them with my combat experience in Southreach, and create a new Silverpeak Military Manual. Someday, it could be left to Astra, or submitted to the academy.

"This is a massive project," I muttered as I rubbed my sore neck. "Some of these codes and ancient magic circles are hard to decipher. If Oliver were here, this would be much easier. He's always been the best with old relics and forgotten systems."

As the thought crossed my mind, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.

"Ms. Spencer! Ms. Spencer!"

Tom's voice carried in from the front courtyard, so excited it nearly cracked. "Quick! Come out! You have to see who's here!"

My heart skipped.

Tom was usually calm and steady. It was rare for him to lose his composure like this.

Had something serious happened?

I grabbed the cloak hanging over the back of the chair and rushed outside.

The moment I reached the courtyard, I froze.

In the swirling snow stood a man dressed in a long green robe.

He wasn't holding an umbrella. Snow settled on his shoulders, yet it seemed to stop short, as if an invisible field kept his clothes dry.

He stood tall and straight, a large art case strapped to his back, a jug of wine in his hand.

Even in the bitter cold, where every breath turned to white mist, he looked like someone who had stepped out of a painting. Elegant, refined, and carrying a calm presence that put people at ease.

He turned around. Those gentle eyes met mine, and his lips curved into a familiar, indulgent smile that I had known my whole life.

"Well, kid, what's wrong? You don't recognize me anymore?" he said lightly.

My eyes instantly filled with tears. Any restraint or ducal dignity vanished completely.

"Oliver!"

I shouted and ran toward him like a child who had never grown up, throwing myself straight into his arms.

Oliver.

The renowned scholar known throughout the land. The living legend of the academy. The man who had watched me grow up.

He had come.