Lucy had witnessed the arrival of "Prince Etherious," yet unlike the others—so eager to be dazzled by his spectacle and grand tales—she remained unconvinced. She had seen too many men parade through these halls, puffed up with promises and vanity, only to make fools of themselves in the end. This one, she was certain, would be no different. For a fleeting moment, she considered refusing to meet him altogether, but the last thing she needed was to provoke her father into another foul temper. So, with quiet reluctance, she stepped into the great hall.

The moment Natsu saw her, he nearly lost his composure. She was just as beautiful as he remembered—no, more so. For a heartbeat, he could only stare.

"Prince Etherious, allow me to present my daughter, Princess Lucy," the sultan announced.

Lucy, however, would not even grant him the courtesy of a glance. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, her posture stiff with disinterest. She wanted this absurd meeting over as quickly as possible. Across from her, Natsu fought to keep his thoughts from scattering entirely.

"Your—" He swallowed, steadying himself before bowing. "Your Majesty, I am Prince Etherious of Khalihan, and I would be honored to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

Irritation flared instantly within Lucy. Already he was asking for her hand, without so much as a single attempt to know her. Of course—he was just like all the rest. Another man seeking power, wealth, and convenience, dressing ambition up as admiration. Did none of them possess the sense—or the decency—to speak with her first?

Ironically, the only prince who ever had was the one who had never wanted to marry her at all.

"And I would be delighted to refuse," she replied coolly.

"Lucy!" her father snapped. "You could at least show him some respect. This man has traveled far and wide to meet you—and he has brought you the most marvelous gifts."

"I don't care how far he's traveled, and I don't care about his gifts," Lucy shot back. "He's just another fraud. Another man who sees me as something to be won—which I most certainly am not."

With that, she turned sharply and swept out of the hall. Natsu's heart dropped. He had been so certain she might have liked him, at least a little, if he came to her this way. He hadn't imagined it would end like this. Not before it had even begun.

"I apologize on my daughter's behalf, Prince Etherious," Jude said, smoothing over the moment. "She is... particular when it comes to suitors. Give her a little time to cool off. I will speak with her, and we shall settle this matter at dinner tonight—if you intend to stay?"

"I will," Natsu said, glancing toward Gray, "if the prince of Verdenshav will have me."

Gray studied him for a moment, suspicion still lingering in his eyes. "I suppose there's no harm in hosting another guest. I'll have a room prepared."

"Excellent," Jude replied. "Come, Zash. It's been a long morning. I think we could all use some time to ourselves."

"Indeed," the vizier murmured. "I have much to consider."

The sultan and his vizier departed swiftly, their footsteps fading into the corridor. The moment they were gone, the weight of the room seemed to settle.

Natsu let out a quiet breath, his shoulders slumping as he sank to the floor.

"Apologize on her behalf?" he muttered bitterly. "Feels like I should be the one apologizing for existing."

Gray's suspicion wavered then, replaced—if only briefly—by sympathy. The prince's disappointment was too immediate, too genuine to ignore.

"Don't take it too hard," Gray said. "She likely would've treated me the same way if I'd come here to marry her."

Natsu blinked, looking up. "Wait... aren't you courting her too?"

"Not exactly." Gray folded his arms. "My people fear the aftermath of the war. They think a marriage between us would secure peace—give us protection if other nations grow hostile. And while I understand their reasoning..." He hesitated. "And while the princess is remarkable, I could never marry her."

"Why not?" Natsu asked, incredulous.

"Because I don't love her."

Natsu stared at him, stunned. "You don't love her?" he repeated, as if the words themselves didn't make sense. "How can you not? How could you not want to marry her? She's—she's incredible. Magnificent. The most beautiful woman in the world. She's like the sun, bright and impossible to ignore. Like fire, alive, untamed—"

Gray gave a faint, almost amused shake of his head. "As I said, she is remarkable. But she isn't the one for me." His expression softened. "The woman I love... she's different. Quiet, in a way. Gentle. Like the moon. And there's a depth to her like the ocean."

Natsu's expression shifted, understanding dawning. "Oh... there's someone else."

"Yes."

"Then why go along with the arranged marriage?" Natsu asked. "Why not just find her? Marry her instead?"

Gray hesitated, a flush creeping up his neck. "Well...You're going to think I'm an idiot."

"Try me."

"I don't know who she is."

"You're in love with someone," he said slowly, "and you don't even know her name?"

"I know how that sounds," Gray said quickly. "I've thought about it a thousand times, and it makes no sense, I know—but I can't shake it. I saw her once. Just once. And that was enough." He let out a quiet breath. "I don't know her name, where she's from... nothing. But I know—somehow—that she's the one."

He glanced back at Natsu, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.

"I can't be the only man in the world who's felt that way, can I?"

Natsu opened his mouth to protest—but stopped himself. The argument died on his tongue as the realization struck: he wasn't so different. He had fallen just as quickly, just as blindly. The only difference was that he at least knew Lucy's name.
Still maybe that didn't have to be a disadvantage.

"It seems a golden opportunity has presented itself to us," the false prince said.

Gray raised a brow. "Oh? And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"You're expected to marry a princess when your heart belongs to someone else," Natsu began, straightening slightly. "Meanwhile, I want to marry this princess—but clearly, I'll need help if I'm going to win her over." He paused, letting the idea settle. "So... perhaps we can help each other."

Gray studied him, considering. "You have my attention," he admitted after a moment. "Go on."

"You and her may not be in love," Natsu said, "but you seem to be friends. Tell me how to win her heart—and if I succeed, you won't have to marry her."

Gray hummed thoughtfully. "Not a bad plan," he conceded. Then his expression sharpened. "There's just one problem."

Natsu's confidence faltered slightly. "What?"

"I don't trust you."

The words landed plainly, without hesitation.

"As I said before, I've never heard of you—or your kingdom."

"I already explained that."

"That doesn't mean you told me the truth."

Natsu's eyes narrowed. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No," Gray said evenly. "But I'm not calling you honest, either. Not yet." He crossed his arms. "As much as I want to avoid this marriage, I won't help some fraud manipulate her. I don't know that you are one but I don't know that you aren't."

Natsu hesitated. "So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'll consider your offer," Gray replied. "And I'll be watching you. Closely. The truth has a way of revealing itself—and for your sake, I hope it does so in your favor."

Natsu's jaw tightened. "Is that a threat?"

"No," Gray said calmly. "It's a warning."

He took a step closer, his voice lowering just enough to carry weight.

"Impersonating royalty isn't a harmless trick. In most nations, it's punishable by death—or life imprisonment. And that includes here."

Natsu frowned. "But this country isn't even ruled by a monarchy."

"True," Gray said. "But it trades with those that are. The last thing this kingdom wants is to insult its allies by excusing someone who makes a mockery of their titles."

The words hit harder than anything else had. For a moment, the haze of love sickness lifted—and reality came crashing in. Natsu had been so sure. With the wealth, the spectacle, the illusion Gildarts had helped him build, he thought no one would question him. No one would look twice.

But Gray had if he could see through the cracks... how many others would? How long before someone uncovered the truth?

His stomach twisted.

What would Lucy think of him if she did?

...

Lucy hadn't meant to lose her temper so quickly—but the frustration had been building for days, and now it spilled over before she could stop it.
An arranged marriage. Expectations. Pressure from every direction. And now, as if that weren't enough, yet another suitor arriving out of nowhere to claim her hand.  Couldn't she have a moment to breathe? Just one day without being pushed toward a life she hadn't chosen?

She needed an escape so she turned to the one thing that had always steadied her. Art. Drawing in a slow breath, then another, Lucy knelt and began unpacking the supplies she had brought with her. Each movement was deliberate, grounding. She set up her easel, fixed a fresh canvas into place, and opened her watercolors with quiet care. Brush in hand, she hesitated only a moment before letting instinct take over.

The ocean. It had been her first time seeing it—vast, endless, alive in a way she had never imagined. The memory of it still lingered, fresh and vivid in her mind. Her brush moved. Soft strokes at first, then more certain. Green-blue waves rolled across the canvas, layered with white foam that rose and fell in restless motion. The colors blended and shifted, capturing the rhythm she remembered—the push and pull, the quiet power beneath the surface. It reminded her, strangely, of the desert winds she had grown up with. Different, yet the same in spirit. Wild. Unyielding.

For a moment, she forgot everything else.

"And just what do you think you're doing?!"

The sharp voice shattered the calm. Lucy froze, her brush hovering midstroke before slowly lowering. Irritation flared instantly as she turned her head, already knowing exactly who it was.
The palace guards. Sent to "protect" her—though more often it felt like they were there to watch her every move. Her grip tightened slightly on the brush, jaw setting as she faced them, her fragile moment of peace already slipping through her fingers.

"Oh, what is it now?" Lucy thought, irritation already rising again.

With a quiet sigh, she set her brush aside and crossed the room. She opened her chamber door just a crack—and immediately spotted the source of the commotion. One of the palace guards stood in the hall, towering over the mute girl who had also been staying as a guest. A guest, Lucy noted bitterly, that both her father and his staff seemed all too eager to forget.

"How dare you attempt to enter the princess's chambers!" the guard barked. "No one is permitted inside without permission!"

The girl shook her head frantically, trying to explain. She held something out toward him—but before she could, he struck it from her hand. She flinched, recoiling and clutching her fingers. The object clattered across the floor, skidding to Lucy's feet. Lucy frowned and bent to pick it up.
Her bracelet. She must have dropped it earlier, and the girl had only been trying to return it.

Lucy's expression hardened.

"Why don't you speak?" the guard demanded harshly. "Answer me, you little fool!"

"She cannot speak!" Lucy's voice cut through the corridor like a blade.

Both of them turned.

"And for your information," Lucy continued sharply, stepping fully into the doorway, "the only thing she attempted was returning something that belongs to me—an attempt you so graciously interrupted."

The guard stiffened, his face draining of color.

"Princess Lucy, I was only—"

"Quiet," she snapped. "You've done quite enough."

He fell silent at once. Lucy turned back to the girl, her expression softening, her voice gentler now.

"Are you alright?"

The girl nodded, though she still held her hand close.

"I'm so sorry," Lucy said sincerely. "I promise you won't be treated that way again." She held up the bracelet with a small, grateful smile. "And thank you... for returning this to me."

The girl smiled back, nodding shyly. That was when Lucy noticed it. A necklace—simple, but striking. A heart-shaped pearl resting just at the girl's collarbone. Lucy's gaze lingered.

"I've seen that pendant before..." she murmured.

Her eyes lifted—tracing from the necklace to the girl's face and then it clicked. Recognition struck all at once.

"Juvia?" Lucy breathed. "Juvia... is that you?"

The girl's eyes widened in panic. Before Lucy could take another step, she turned and fled down the corridor.

"Wait!" Lucy called after her.

The guard shifted uncertainly. "Shall I go after her, Your Highness?"

"No," Lucy said firmly, though her gaze remained fixed on the empty hall. "Leave her be."

Lucy's thoughts were racing. Juvia was here? In this place? And more than that, why did she have legs? Why couldn't she speak? Lucy glanced down at the bracelet still in her hand, her curiosity burning brighter by the second. It seemed her stay in Magnolia would be far more interesting than she had expected.

Okay now we're shifting gears. Getting back to Erza and Wendy's story, but soon it will all come together. Stick around.