The ballroom's glittering tension did not settle even after the nobles dispersed for refreshments. Conversations resumed, skirts rustled, servants hurried to refill goblets, but the air remained heavy with the aftershock of Celestia's quiet but devastating revelations. Her precision had left multiple houses scrambling internally—whispers trailed after her like faint echoes as she moved.
Yet Celestia did not allow herself a moment's rest. A single strike was never enough in the political battlefield. Tonight wasn't only about exposing enemies; it was about shaping the battlefield for all the moves that would follow.
Marienne slipped to her side. "Your Highness," she whispered softly, "Baroness Frelvine requests a moment with you. She claims it's urgent."
"Baroness Frelvine?" Celestia repeated, faintly surprised.
