Wrapped in layered robes of shimmering silver-blue, Xion looked like winter personified.
His outer coat, lined with soft white fox fur, brushed gently against his slightly flushed cheeks.
Jewels were embroidered into his garments, and delicate chains adorned his swan-like neck and slender fingers.
His thin waist was cinched with special golden chains that jingled slightly with each step.
Yet none could rival the sheer beauty of his deep blue eyes that seemed to hold the entire world in them.
When Xion looked at the attendees with his usual smile, they couldn't help but stammer in response.
It felt as though Xion was truly looking at them—not at their clothes or social standing, but at them. If one stared at you with such a pure gaze, how could their heart not beat?
They all collectively thought that it wasn't that Xion got lucky as the ministers had been saying. On the contrary, it was their lord, the Archduke, who somehow managed to snatch the blessing of the goddess.
