I Am The Game's Villain

Chapter 861: New Dorian

New Dorian was one of the most beautiful islands in all of Edenis Raphiel.

It was also, without question, among the best-known places in the Celesta Kingdom. If someone in Celesta were asked what first came to mind when they heard the name Edenis Raphiel, they would most likely speak of the Monolith, the sacred symbol that had become inseparable from the Archipelago itself. Yet, if that same person were asked which island they wished to visit, the answer would often be New Dorian.

Its fame did not come only from its mild sea winds, clear waters, or the white stone buildings rising along its green hills. New Dorian carried history in every street, every old wall, and every banner hanging from its balconies. It was a place tied to the very beginning of the Celesta Kingdom.

A thousand years ago, after King Dorian had conquered the lands that would later become Celesta, defeated the Vatra Tribe, and claimed the protection of the Garden of Eden as its Guardian, he received an invitation from Edenis Raphiel.

The rulers of the islands had called for him personally. So had the Guardian of the Tree.

At that time, Dorian was still a young king. His kingdom had only recently been born from conflict and bloodshed, its borders still fragile, its future uncertain. Yet his name had already crossed the sea. To the people of Edenis Raphiel, he was not merely a foreign ruler. He was spoken of as a great hero, a man who had survived war, taken hold of a sacred duty, and risen from chaos to build a realm of his own.

The ancient archives recorded that, upon his arrival, King Dorian was received with great ceremony. The Priestess offered him her blessing, and it was said Raphiel herself acknowledged his position as King. It was said that the moment remained one of the most important meetings between Celesta and Edenis Raphiel, long before their alliance became something accepted and familiar.

Moved by the King’s achievements, the rulers of Edenis Raphiel gathered and made a decision together. They offered him one of their islands.

It was a beautiful place, though still small and quiet at the time. Its villages were scattered along the coast, its interior covered in dense forests, flowered fields, and rocky paths that climbed toward the hills. The island had a peaceful charm, but it lacked the grandeur of the greater islands of Edenis Raphiel.

Dorian accepted the gift with gratitude.

He did not simply claim the island and leave it untouched. With the aid of his knights, craftsmen, soldiers, and loyal men from his clan, he transformed it. Dorian had already begun constructing the capital of his new kingdom in Celesta, and the same ambition that shaped that rising city was brought across the sea.

Roads were laid through the forests. Harbors were expanded. Markets, homes, gardens, and stone bridges appeared where there had once been only narrow paths and small settlements. New buildings rose in a style that reminded visitors of Celesta, though they still carried the elegant, airy beauty of Edenis Raphiel.

Within only a few years, a new city stood at the heart of the island.

It was called New Dorian.

King Dorian himself never intended to rule from there. His place remained in Celesta, where his kingdom still needed him. He had a throne to protect, laws to establish, enemies to watch, and a people who had placed their future in his hands.

Still, he gave much to New Dorian. He provided the resources to build it, sent trusted men to defend it, and ordered the construction of a residence for himself should he ever visit Edenis Raphiel for long periods.

Many of the knights and soldiers he sent eventually chose not to return home.

Some had fallen in love with the island. Some had married people from its old villages. Others had founded families there, mixing their Celesta blood with that of Edenis Raphiel. What had originally been meant as a distant royal residence gradually became something more permanent: a city built under Dorian’s name, inhabited by descendants of his clan and loyal followers.

As the years passed, New Dorian continued to grow.

It became richer, busier, and more influential. Ships from Celesta arrived at its ports, carrying silk, wine, metals, books, and noble guests. Edenis Raphiel merchants brought rare fruits, pearls, spices, medicines, and rarematerials from the other islands. The city became a bridge between two worlds, neither fully Celesta nor fully separate from Edenis Raphiel.

When King Dorian finally stepped away from the throne in his later years, he chose New Dorian as the place where he would spend his retirement.

Far from the noise of the capital and the endless responsibilities of a king, he lived there quietly. He walked through the gardens that had been planted in his name, watched the ships come into the harbor, and remained close to the people who had made the island their home. For the first time in much of his life, he was able to exist not only as the founder of a kingdom, but as an aging man surrounded by the peace he had helped create.

Later, one of his grandsons, though not a direct heir to the Celesta throne, also settled in New Dorian. He became its lord, beginning a line that would govern the island for generations.

Because of that, the rulers of New Dorian remained related to the Celesta royal family, though the blood had grown distant over the centuries. The connection was no longer close enough to give them a claim to the throne, nor strong enough to place them among the immediate royal line. Still, they were family in the old sense of the word: descendants of the same founder, bound by history even when time had thinned the blood between them.

For that reason, New Dorian had always held a special place in the hearts of the Celesta royal family.

Whenever they traveled to Edenis Raphiel for diplomatic matters, ceremonies, or private visits, they would often stay there. It was not simply a beautiful island, nor merely a convenient royal residence. It was a place built by their ancestor. A part of Dorian’s legacy had remained across the sea for a thousand years.

Many members of the royal family had also chosen New Dorian when they wished to step away from the capital. Princes, princesses, distant cousins, widowed nobles, and aging former officials had all come there seeking a quieter life. Some stayed only for a season. Others never returned to Celesta at all.

At the center of the city stood its most prestigious monument: the Dorian Castle.

The castle resembled a grand château, elegant rather than cruel or imposing. Four tall white towers stood at each corner, rising above the city’s rooftops and overlooking the flowing rivers. Its walls were pale nearly shining beneath the sun, while vines and flowering plants climbed over parts of the outer stone. Wide gardens surrounded it, filled with old statues, fountains, and paths shaded by ancient trees.

It had been built during the founder’s era by King Dorian’s own order. It was meant to be his official residence whenever he came to Edenis Raphiel, and even after a thousand years, the castle remained one of the clearest signs that the island had once belonged to him in more than name alone.

Today, the Dorian Castle was owned by Calwen Lumis, a distant cousin of the Celesta royal family and the current ruler of New Dorian.

Only a few days earlier, Calwen had received guests of great importance.

The Royal Family of Celesta had arrived in Edenis Raphiel.

Their presence in New Dorian was hardly surprising. Whenever the royal family visited the island realm, the city was always among their first choices for residence. And the Dorian Castle, despite belonging to Calwen Lumis, had always remained open to them.

In truth, it was less a matter of the castle being offered to the royal family than it was of it quietly returning to them whenever they came.

In one of the private chambers of Dorian Castle, a handsome young man with golden hair stood before a tall mirror, staring at his reflection with far more seriousness than the occasion probably required.

He was the Crown Prince of the New Celesta Empire, Alfred Owen Celesta.

His focus remained entirely on the royal coat he wore.

It was a deep, dignified blue tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders and lean figure. Fine golden embroidery followed the edges of the collar, the cuffs, and the front of the coat in elegant patterns. Small sapphire-like stones had been set into the decorative clasps, catching the sunlight whenever he moved.

The outfit was expensive, far too formal for Alfred’s usual taste, and certainly not something he wore every day. He preferred simpler royal attire when there was no ceremony to attend, uniforms, dark coats, clothes that allowed him to move without feeling as if the entire kingdom was staring at him.

But today was not an ordinary day.

Today, everything had to be perfect.

Alfred adjusted the collar once more, then smoothed down the front of his coat. His blue eyes narrowed slightly as he searched for some flaw only he seemed capable of seeing.

Behind him, the door opened quietly.

A beautiful middle-aged woman entered the chamber with graceful steps.

Queen Edith Celesta watched her son for a moment with an amused smile.

Then she approached him from behind and placed both hands upon his shoulders, patting them gently before smoothing the fabric along his arms.

"You are looking very handsome, my son," she said warmly.

Alfred looked at her reflection in the mirror, but rather than appearing pleased, he only let out a long sigh.

"I do not even know why I am feeling nervous," he said. "And honestly, I do not even know why I am here."

Edith’s smile became slightly more knowing.

"Stop complaining," she said. "You agreed that you would do this."

"I know." Alfred finally turned away from the mirror, though he still looked troubled. "As I promised Grandfather, I will meet her. I will speak with her. But the one I truly love is still Milleia, Mother."

For a brief moment, Edith’s expression softened.

"I know, Alfred," she said quietly. "I have never doubted that."

"Then why does it always feel as though no one listens when I say it?" Alfred asked. There was frustration in his voice now, though he tried to keep it under control. "Grandfather says the same thing. You say the same thing. Everyone keeps acting as if my feelings do not matter."

"They matter," Edith replied. "But feelings alone do not decide the future of a Kingdom or... an empire."

Alfred grumbled under his breath..

"Milleia is not fit to become Queen," Edith continued gently. "That does not mean she is worthless. It does not mean she cannot be important to you. But becoming the Queen of Celesta is not a simple matter of love."

Alfred turned fully toward her.

"And how would you know?" He asked, more sharply than he meant to. "How can you decide who is worthy of that role and who is not?"

Queen Edith raised a brow.

"Do you truly think that, as Queen, I would not know who could take my place one day?" She asked.

Alfred looked away, clearly annoyed, though he said nothing.

Edith sighed softly and stepped closer. Her hand rose to rest against his cheek for a brief moment, as it had when he was younger.

"Listen to me, Alfred," she said. "I am not telling you that you must stop loving Milleia. If she accepts your love, then she may become your wife. I would never stand against your happiness simply because she does not come from the right family."

Alfred’s eyes returned to hers.

"But you will need a Queen," Edith continued. "Not only someone beautiful, not only someone kind, but someone who can stand beside you when the court turns cruel. Someone who understands diplomacy, political pressure, noble houses, foreign rulers, and the burdens that come with being watched by an entire empire."

Her voice lowered slightly.

"You will need someone strong enough to rule at your side."

For several seconds, Alfred remained silent.

He hated that he understood her.

That was what made it more difficult.

"Alright," he finally said. "I understand, Mother. I am here for that."

"Good." Edith smiled again. "Then stop looking as if you are about to be led to your execution."

Alfred gave her an unamused look.

"And smile," she added. "Speak to her properly. Make her feel welcome. Make her feel wanted."

"Mother," Alfred said dryly, "I am not a child anymore."

"I know," Edith replied, laughing softly. "That is why this is so important."

Alfred exhaled through his nose, then glanced toward the door.

"Please," he said. "I will speak with her alone. Do not come after me. And make sure Grandfather does not come either. No guards standing outside listening, no advisors, no one trying to interfere."

Edith’s smile turned almost innocent.

"Understood."

Alfred looked at her suspiciously.

"Truly?"

"Truly," she said.

After a moment, Alfred nodded. He straightened his coat one last time, as though gathering his confidence along with the folds of the expensive fabric, then walked toward the door.

Once outside, he made his way through the long corridors of Dorian Castle.

He was only going to meet a potential wife.

His potential Queen.

And yet his chest felt strangely tight.

Perhaps it was because he had never done this before. Alfred had met noblewomen, princesses, duchesses, and daughters of influential families all his life. He knew how to speak to them, how to dance with them, how to appear charming when the situation required it.

But this was different.

This was not a simple introduction at a ball.

The woman waiting for him was not the daughter of a count or a duke. She was not someone he could politely meet and forget after a few hours.

She carried a rank close to that of a princess.

She was a possible future Queen of the New Celesta Empire.

Alfred continued down the corridor until he reached a particular door at the end of the wing.

He stopped.

For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the carved pale wood before him. His hand hovered near the handle, but he did not touch it.

Then he drew in a slow breath.

There was no reason to be nervous.

Still, his heart beat a little faster as he knocked.

After waiting only a moment, Alfred gently opened the door.

He entered the room and closed it behind him.

Then he turned around.

And forgot, for the briefest moment, how to breathe.

A woman stood near the large window, looking out over the gardens below with her arms lightly crossed. Sunlight surrounded her, turning the pale shades of her hair almost luminous.

She was beautiful.

No, beautiful did not seem enough.

His mother had told him about her several times. More than once, Edith had teased him, saying that he should at least meet the girl before deciding he had no interest in marriage. She had described her as elegant, intelligent, composed, and strikingly beautiful.

But none of those descriptions had prepared him for seeing her in person.

The woman slowly turned her head toward him.

Her hair was a unique silver-white that seemed silver-grey depending the lighting, long and carefully braided down her back. A few delicate strands framed her face, softening features that were already almost too perfect. She wore an ivory gown decorated with fine silver lace, fitted gracefully around her slender body. The dress had no sleeves, though translucent pale fabric flowed from her upper arms and moved lightly whenever the breeze entered through the open window.

Jewelry shimmered at her neck, wrists, and ears, chosen with restraint but clearly of great value.

The skirt of her gown fell just above her knees, while the rest of her long legs were covered in pale silk tights that matched the elegance of the dress. Alfred noticed, with some surprise, that she was tall, very tall for a woman, though still slightly shorter than him.

Then his gaze rose.

Her eyes met his.

They were a deep reddish amber, warm in color yet sharp and unreadable in their expression.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

His mother had not exaggerated.

Not even slightly.

Before him stood the woman both his grandfather and mother had recommended as the future Queen of Celesta.

The only princess of the House Reis Aquila.

Euphemia Reis Aquila.