The grand imperial dressing room lay bathed in the warm glow of crystal chandeliers. Rows of exquisite royal attire shimmered in silver and gold, while six private dressing rooms stood ready in silence. Beyond the tall windows, the cloudy night watched over the chamber, lending an air of quiet imperial splendor.
Grace changed into an outfit woven in the colors of the night sky. A fitted midnight-blue bodice embroidered with golden constellations paired with tailored trousers, while layers of translucent navy fabric flowed from her waist like a celestial train. With a black sash adorned by a single golden star, she seemed to carry the heavens with every step.
Rui changed into her royal gown while Ray donned his Rococo attire. Around them, six royal wardrobe attendants busied themselves with the final touches, ensuring each detail was immaculate.
With their preparations complete, they stepped out of the dressing room to find Welfred waiting for them.
Welfred's gaze settled on Grace, noting that she wore only her ceremonial cape.
"Madam," he said respectfully, "will you not be wearing your crown?"
"I left it in the dressing room," Grace replied with a faint smile. "It was a little too heavy. I'll retrieve it later."
"As you wish, Madam," Welfred said with a courteous nod.
{ Following the coronation, it is customary for the heir to remain adorned in the crown and ceremonial cape until the conclusion of all formal proceedings. However, should they choose otherwise, no obligation compels them to do so; it remains a matter of personal discretion. }
Grace cast Welfred a fleeting glance before a quiet laugh escaped her.
(Back to his ageless routine, I see.)
Unaware of the reason, Welfred tilted his head slightly. "Is something the matter, Madam?"
"Nothing," Grace replied lightly. "I simply remembered something."
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.
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The grand hall stretched beneath glittering chandeliers, its polished marble floor reflecting a sea of golden light. More than a thousand noblemen and ladies filled the imperial gala, their silks and jewels shimmering as musicians played stately melodies and liveried servants glided through the crowd with wine and delicacies. Yet, despite its splendor, the atmosphere felt strangely restrained. Conversations lacked warmth, laughter sounded practiced, and the weight of royal formality lingered over the hall.
Guests continued to stream through the great archway as Grace and the others descended the sweeping staircase, drawing every eye in the room. Even so, Grace's thoughts remained elsewhere. As they had crossed the hallway moments before, she had been seized by the unmistakable feeling that someone was watching them. It had vanished in an instant, leaving her uncertain whether it had been a hidden observer—or merely a trick of her imagination.
As Grace descended the grand staircase, countless young men found themselves unable to look away. Many imagined asking her for a dance, yet hesitation kept them rooted in place. In the end, only one found the courage to step forward and approach her.
Before the young man could reach her, Ray moved first. Stepping forward, he naturally took Grace's left hand, while Rui was already holding her right. Drawn from her thoughts by Ray's touch, Grace looked at him and offered a soft, grateful smile before turning her gaze forward once more.
The young man stopped in his tracks. He looked to Ray for an explanation, but Ray kept his gaze elsewhere, wearing an expression of perfect innocence—as though nothing unusual had happened.
A faint flush of defeat crept across the young man's face. Without a word, he stepped back, conceding the unspoken claim. Around them, the crowd remained oblivious, unaware that a silent exchange had just unfolded—or perhaps aware, yet choosing to pretend otherwise.
Grace led Rui and Ray down the staircase, their small hands clasped tightly in hers as though afraid of being lost in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Reaching the foot of the stairs, they stopped before the governors, who stood waiting in orderly formation.
As Grace spoke with the governors about trade routes, security concerns, and the latest court decrees, Welfred stood quietly at her side, offering assistance whenever needed. Nearby, Ray listened with keen interest despite the topics being well beyond his years, while Rui shifted from foot to foot, her growing restlessness impossible to hide.
Ray noticed at once. One glance at Rui's restless fidgeting was enough to tell she wasn't enjoying the endless discussion. Feigning boredom himself, he leaned closer and gave her a gentle nudge.
"This isn't much fun anymore," he murmured. "I'm thinking of stepping outside. Want to come with me?"
Rui's shoulders relaxed, and a small smile spread across her face. "I will."
Ray gently tugged at Grace's sleeve until she leaned down to him.
"Sister," he whispered, "may Rui and I go outside for a while?"
Beside him, Rui nodded eagerly, relief evident on her face.
Grace's expression softened at Ray's request. She glanced at Welfred and gave a subtle nod, silently asking him to accompany them. Welfred answered with a respectful inclination of his head.
With that, the children escaped the weight of taxes and council affairs, following Welfred into the lighter air beyond the hall.
The palace hallway was unusually quiet despite the evening's festivities. The marble floor echoed with three sets of footsteps—Rui's light skips, Ray's steady stride, and Welfred's measured pace.
From the palace colonnade, the lantern-lit gardens stretched before them. Elegantly dressed guests wandered among manicured hedges and marble statues, their quiet conversations punctuated by occasional laughter. Along the balustrade, a few nobles lingered with glowing cigars as the evening celebration carried on.
Rui quietly hummed to herself as they walked. Beside her, Ray's eyes wandered across the gathering with quiet detachment—until a single face made him pause.
Near the foot of the palace steps stood Seraphine, bathed in the glow of the entrance torches and flanked by a small escort from Floravane. One of her guards leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice.
As he finished, the warmth drained from her expression. Her brows drew together, and for a fleeting moment, something unsettled flickered across her face.
(Why does she look so troubled?) Ray wondered.
"Raymond! Ruivinnie!"
The cheerful call broke Ray's focus, drawing his attention away.
A girl about Ray's age approached them, her attendant following a respectful distance behind.
"Liora," Ray greeted evenly.
"Liora!" Rui exclaimed brightly.
As she drew near, Liora turned to Welfred with a warm smile.
"Sir Welfred, how have you been?"
"I've been well, Miss Liora."
She then gently patted Rui's head, earning a delighted smile.
"Don't you look lovely," Liora said.
Rui beamed.
Ray watched Rui and Liora chat for a moment before his thoughts drifted back to Seraphine. He glanced toward the palace steps.
She was gone.
"Who are you looking for?" Liora asked.
Ray turned to find her standing beside him.
"No... no one," he replied.
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.
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As Grace conversed with the assembled governors, two men stepped forward. The bearing of foreign sovereigns was unmistakable, and their interruption was as deliberate as it was insolent.
"Your Majesty," one of them said smoothly, "where is your crown?"
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Or was it simply too heavy to wear?"
The words were courteous enough, but the intent behind them was unmistakable. He was not questioning the absence of her crown, but her right to wear it. To them, it was not a missing ornament—it was a sign of inexperience and weakness. The silent smile on the other ruler's face betrayed the same contempt.
The hall fell silent, every eye turning to Grace.
She met the man's gaze, a faint, unshaken smile gracing her lips.
"I do not need a crown to prove I am Queen," she replied, her voice calm and quietly resolute.
The two men fell silent. More than her words, it was Grace's calm, commanding gaze that stripped away their mockery. Offering strained smiles and a few hollow pleasantries, they withdrew with what dignity they could salvage.
Grace said nothing more. Her silence was victory enough.
As Grace turned back to resume her conversation with the governors, a sweet, rich fragrance drifted toward her— so alluring she couldn't ignore it. Her gaze fell upon a golden tray bearing several goblets, their contents gleaming under the soft lamplight. One of them seemed to breathe out that irresistible scent. Drawn to it, she reached for the fragrant goblet and lifted it to her lips.
The taste was exquisite— cool, refreshing, sweeter than she expected. One sip became another, and soon she was drinking in slow, savoring gulps until the goblet was nearly empty.
Her gaze briefly followed the attendant who had served it—a tall woman already disappearing into the crowd with the tray balanced gracefully in her hands. Only then did Grace realize she had never truly seen the woman's face; her attention had been fixed entirely on the drink.
Even so, Grace's gaze lingered. The woman stood a head taller than nearly everyone in the hall.
"I thought I was tall... but she nearly brushes the ceiling."
A hint of curiosity followed.
"Who is she? I don't remember seeing her before. Is she an extra—"
A sudden commotion erupted across the hall, cutting the thought short.
She handed the goblet to a passing attendant and turned toward the commotion. A man's raised voice cut through the hall, rough and unmistakable. Grace recognized it at once, and a faint crease formed between her brows.