The sky was shrouded in storm clouds, swallowing every trace of moonlight. Thunder rumbled, its echo carrying across the darkened sky, while a cold breeze slipped through the tall window, tugging at the soft curtains. There, a young woman stood in silence, her figure touched by the restless air, marked with quiet elegance of someone born to wealth and privilege.
She wore a crisp white blouse with puffed sleeves and a high collar, fastened with a cravat. A corset-like waist armor with chains and filigree cinched her figure. Slim black trousers with golden embroidery allowed easy movement, while a sheer overskirt flowed behind her like a veil.
Her midnight-dark hair was swept into an intricate updo. Soft waves framed her crown and gathered into a refined bun at the back, creating a style both regal and composed.
She gazed at the sky, her emerald eyes sparkling, yet shadowed with sorrow—a silent testament to a heart mourning someone gone.
"Looks like it might rain soon…" she said, her voice calm but hesitant.
"This weather… it reminds me of that day…"
A sudden knock at the door shattered the quiet.
"Madam Grace, everyone has already gathered, and they're waiting for you," said the man outside the door, his voice carrying the steadiness of experience.
"Alright, I'll be there in a minute. You go ahead and start the preparations," Grace replied, her gaze still lingering on the dark, gloomy sky.
"As you wish, Madam," the man said, nodding respectfully before stepping away.
She stared at the sky for a moment before turning and walking toward her closet.
Her room was filled with lavish furniture and timeworn antiques. A large bed dominated the space, draped in deep green bedding and embroidered blankets. On either side stood ornate wooden nightstands, their carved details catching the warm, golden glow of crystal lamps.
The walls bore dark, aged stone etched with intricate flourishes. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its many flames casting a steady glow across the room. A towering arched window stood open along one wall, delicate ironwork tracing the curve of the arch above it.
Despite the richness of the décor, the room remained dimly lit. The lamps cast only a muted radiance, as if the occupant deliberately shunned bright light.
She opened her closet and took out a small treasure chest of blue crystal and gold, its surface glimmering softly in the lamplight.
Inside the chest lay a golden locket. She opened it slowly, revealing two tiny portraits of her late parents. She looked at them for a long moment, her eyes glimmering with a quiet, restrained sorrow.
"Mother, Father… it's been eight years already. Tonight feels like that night—the same gloom, the same stillness," she murmured.
"But… I mustn't be sad. Today is the day of my coronation—and my twenty-first birthday." She gave a faint, almost self-conscious scoff.
"I promise you, I'll be the monarch you hoped I would become… like Father."
"I'll continue to protect Elenor and its people, as I always have."
"I'll watch over Ray and Rui… and Welfred, Aunt Sera… everyone who calls this kingdom home."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the locket.
"I won't fail you."
Before she could go on, a soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Sister, are you in there?" came a gentle voice from behind the door.
"I am," Grace replied.
"Can I come in?"
"Yeah, come in," she said quietly.
The door creaked open, revealing a thirteen-year-old boy standing in the doorway. Grace quickly slipped the locket back into the chest and returned it to its place in the closet.
He came closer, his steps soft against the floor, and stopped near her. Grace closed the closet gently, then looked at him.
"You came here for something?" Grace asked softly.
"Yes... I wanted to see you," the boy stammered.
Grace smiled "See me? You see me every day."
He blushed. "I know... but it's your birthday. I wanted to see you first.. see how beautiful you look today."
Leaning closer, Grace teased, "And you say that every day. What's different now?
He looked down "It's your coronation. After today, you'll be queen... and busy."
Grace knelt, lifting his chin gently. "Afraid I won't have time for you?"
He nodded.
"Don't worry," she said, smiling. "No matter how busy I get, I'll always make time for you two."
His eyes lit up. "Promise?"
"Promise," she whispered.
She stood, glancing at the door before looking back at him. "Where's Rui? I don't see her."
"She is asleep," he replied.
"Already?" I thoughtshe'dexcited," Grace said, surprised.
"She was... so worked up she just crashed," he smiled.
Grace chuckled. "We should wake her before the ceremony, or she'll be mad."
He nodded, and she took his hand.
They left the room and walked down the corridor. After passing two chambers, they stopped before a massive white door, its surface adorned with intricate golden carvings that gleamed in the light. Two guards stood at either corner, bowing to Grace and the boy. She returned a small bow, and they smiled. Grace grasped the handle, and they entered together.
The room was brightly illuminated, its glistening lights casting a warm, inviting glow— so unlike Grace's dimly lit quarters. The ceiling was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate plasterwork and delicate reliefs. Arched curves swept gracefully across it, giving the space and airy, majestic feel. At the center hung a grand chandelier, dazzling like a cluster of stars.
The bed stood as the room's crown jewel— a towering four-plaster with finely carved wooden posts. Heavy drapery cascaded its canopy, lending it a regal, almost throne-like presence. Every piece of furniture echoed the same luxury, with ornate carvings and plush velvet upholstery.
Tall windows framed with opulent curtains and tasseled ties let in soft light, while a marble fireplace adorned with gilded details added warmth and grandeur.
The palette of ivory, cream, and gold bathed the room in elegance and brightness— radiant and refined, without the weight of darker tones.
They took a few steps forward and stopped beside the bed.
Lying there was a little girl, about nine years old, fast asleep. The boy stepped closer, reached out his hand, and gently shook her shoulder to wake her.
"Wake up, Miss Ruivienne. Howlongareyouplanningtosleep?" the boy said teasingly.
"Ugh... who's this?" the girl mumbled, slowly opening her eyes too see the boy standing there.
"Oh, Ray— it's you," she said, rubbing her left eye with a small yawn.
"Wait— the ceremony! Is it over already?"
She shot upright and glared at him. "Why didn't you wake me up? I told you to, didn't I?