The morning after the royal ball, the world woke up differently. It began quietly, almost politely. A single headline surfaced online just after dawn, accompanied by a carefully chosen photograph of the palace ballroom glowing beneath chandeliers.
"A Night of Unprecedented Elegance: Royal Ball Redefines Grandeur."
Within hours, it was no longer a single headline, it was everywhere. Screens lit up with photographs taken from every permissible angle, the gilded arches, the sweeping dance floor, the delicate floral installations, the seamless harmony of color and light. Commentators praised the restraint, the balance, the way the event felt both timeless and refreshingly modern and then the credits began to appear.
Event Coordination: H&M Events. The name circulated faster than anyone could have anticipated. By midmorning, entertainment and society tabloids were no longer just reviewing the ball. they were dissecting it.
"How One Event Firm Delivered the Most Impeccable Royal Gathering in Decades." "H&M Events: The Architects Behind the Palace's Most Talked-About Evening." "Meet the Minds Who Made the Royal Ball Unforgettable."
Nara's phone began vibrating before she had even finished her coffee. Emails, messages and missed calls. Her inbox flooded with inquiries from international brands, private estates, embassies, legacy families, circles that had once felt distant, untouchable, and then there were the guests.
Handwritten notes arrived at the palace addressed to her personally. Exquisite, effortless, a masterclass in understated luxury. One noblewoman wrote that she had attended royal functions for over forty years and had never felt so "seen" by a space before.
Another message, forwarded directly to Hellen, read:
Your team understood atmosphere, not just logistics. That is rare. We will be in touch.
Hellen stared at her screen in disbelief.
Then she laughed, one of those deep, disbelieving laughs that came from years of perseverance finally cracking open.
"They're calling us," she said aloud to no one in particular. "They're actually calling us."
H&M Events was no longer just respected.
It was desired.
Across the city, in a sharply lit office lined with glass and steel, the news landed very differently. The Alarics watched the coverage unfold in silence. Every headline felt like an insult, every glowing review sharpened the bitterness in the room.
"She's everywhere," one of them spat, tossing a tablet onto the table. "Every article mentions her."
"And the firm," another added coldly. "H&M Events. That girl elevated them."
The matriarch of the Alaric family sat rigidly at the head of the table, her fingers steepled, her gaze fixed on a paused image from a news clip. Nara, standing beside the Queen smiling, cknowledged and respected.
"She was supposed to be irrelevant," she said quietly. No one contradicted her.
"She took what should have been our daughter's position," another voice muttered.
"She's standing where our name should be."
"And now she's rising while we fall," someone else added bitterly.
The room pulsed with resentment. They had lost contracts, lost allies, lost ground and the girl they had dismissed as insignificant unworthy, was becoming untouchable.
"This cannot stand," the matriarch said finally, her voice sharp with resolve. "We will not be erased quietly."
Eyes turned toward her.
"We watch. We wait," she continued. "And then we remind the world who holds power."
The plotting began again.
---
Keigh read the headlines alone. He sat in the quiet of his office, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, phone resting loosely in his hand. The city outside his window moved as it always did, busy, indifferent but inside him, something was glowing. Pride, unfiltered and fierce.
He scrolled slowly, deliberately, absorbing every mention of her name. Nara, visionary, elegant and a rising star. He lingered on a photo someone had taken discreetly at the ball, the way she stood beneath the lights, composed, luminous, entirely herself. A soft smile touched his lips.
That's my woman. Not because she was being praised, not because the world had finally caught up, but because she had done it without losing herself. She had walked into a world designed to swallow people whole and reshaped it instead. Keigh leaned back, exhaling slowly.
They don't even know yet, he thought. They have no idea what she's capable of and the idea of her returning to him, after all of this, made something steady and sure settle in his chest.
---
At the palace, preparations for departure unfolded at a gentler pace. Suitcases lined the sitting room of Nara's quarters, carefully packed by her assistants. Fabric garment bags hung neatly, labeled and pressed. Checklists were reviewed, documents secured, final emails sent. The work was done, too well done, perhaps.
Nara stood by the window, watching the gardens sway softly in the breeze. The palace felt quieter now, less ceremonial, more intimate. Footsteps approached. She turned to see Queen Liora enter, dressed simply, her crown set aside.
"I thought I might steal you for a moment," the Queen said lightly.
Nara smiled. "Of course."
They walked together down a corridor that led to a small sitting room overlooking the inner courtyard. Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, bathing the space in warmth.
"You've changed things," Liora said after a moment, pouring tea for them both. "Not just the ball, the energy here."
Nara accepted the cup carefully. "I only did my job."
The Queen smiled knowingly. "You did much more than that."
They sat in comfortable silence for a while.
Then Liora spoke again, softer this time.
"You know," she said, "this palace can feel… heavy to those who don't belong to it."
Nara nodded slowly. "I felt that at first."
"And yet," the Queen continued, meeting her gaze, "you carried yourself as if you'd walked these halls before."
The words settled gently between them.
Nara felt something twist in her chest, an emotion she couldn't quite name.
"I suppose I adapt easily," she said carefully.
Liora smiled, but there was something wistful in her eyes.
"I would like you to come back," the Queen said then, simply. "Not for work, not out of obligation."
Nara looked at her.
"Whenever you feel like it," Liora added. "The palace doors will always be open to you."
For a brief moment, Nara hesitated. She thought of the quiet mornings, the unexpected comfort. The way something here felt familiar in a way she couldn't explain. Then another image rose in her mind. Keigh. His voice, arms. The certainty of him. Her lips curved into a smile.
"Thank you," she said warmly. "I would like that."
The Queen reached across the table, resting her hand lightly over Nara's.
"Go," Liora said softly. "Live. Love. And return when you're ready."
Nara swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat and nodded. As the convoy prepared to depart, Nara took one last look at the palace. She didn't know why leaving felt heavier than arriving, but as she stepped into the jet, her phone buzzed, a message from Keigh.
I'm proud of you. I can't wait to have you back.
Her hesitation faded instantly. The jet flew away, carrying her forward, toward him, toward everything unfolding ahead. Behind her, the palace stood quietly. Watching and waiting. And far away, forces that refused to let her rise without consequence began to stir once more.
But for now, the world knew her name and nothing would ever be the same again.