Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 784

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Soon, an old steward led in a woman dressed in a pale pink gown. She had a soft, round face, and the dress clung a bit too tightly around her plump figure, especially around her midsection. She wasn’t extremely large–just enough for the ill–fitting gown to accentuate her roundness.

Even with the extra weight, her natural beauty shone through. Her features were delicate, her skin was fair with a healthy glow, and her eyes sparkled like stars in the night sky.

The steward had already informed her of their guests, so she entered and greeted them politely. Greetings, Prince Rafael, Lady Carissa. My name is Chaya Kingsley.”

Her smile was bright and sweet, suiting her softness. It was the kind of smile that instantly made people feel at ease.

“Chaya–what a lovely name,” Carissa remarked, observing her thoughtfully.

There was something different about Chaya, unlike the other concubines‘ daughters. She didn’t have Celeste’s seductive allure, Carmen’s prideful strength, or Cecilia’s quiet sorrow. She was just sweet. Her eyes were full of light, as if untouched by the darkness surrounding her.

smile, saying, “We all have nice names. My dad may not be good for much, but he does have some knowledge. Chaya–sounds nice, doesn’t it? But the meaning’s not great. Just a shadow, hidden and unseen. But I’ve lived quite a life here

“My dear girl, if they were here to take you away, they wouldn’t have come with gifts i the evening. They’d have shown up with the Capital Guard

in

bring honor to us women. If only I

turned to Hayden. “Seems you’ve picked up a real gem here. She must keep

you well entertained, Great–uncle.”

dismissively and pretended to be annoyed. “A gem? More like a freeloader! She can’t sing or dance, yet has the nerve to say I smell like an old man. I’ll feed her up until she’s as round as a pumpkin. Then, she’ll lose the

mock displeasure, his tone

“My dad sent me here, figuring that with Prince Hayden alone in

too old! And he’s not big on rinsing his mouth either. Every time he speaks, a whiff of bad breath hits me. How am I supposed

kept me here, feeding me five or six times a day. He doesn’t let me do much, and occasionally

about your mom? Aren’t you worried about her?

do is live well myself and try to keep my mom from fretting over me. That’s the most respectable thing I