The following days blurred into a whirl of fabric, ink, and endless lists. What began as Alex's idea quickly unfolded into a production that consumed every spare moment. The grand fashion show had to be flawless, convincing enough to lure nobles and royals alike—and provide cover for the infiltration of the Hall of Bonding.
Bolts of silk and velvet filled the drawing room, the air rich with the scent of dyes and chalk. Alex stood amid it all, sleeves rolled up, pins clamped between his lips as he adjusted the line of a gown draped over a mannequin. His hands moved with steady confidence, the sharp focus in his eyes betraying none of the nerves coiled in his chest.
Saphira hovered nearby, scribbling notes as Lady Marriane dictated adjustments in her cool, exacting tone. "The neckline deeper. The sleeves narrower. This must command attention, not beg for it."
Alex bit back a smile as Saphira muttered under her breath about perfectionism, though her quill never slowed.
Riven lounged against the window frame, watching Alex with undisguised amusement. "Never thought I'd see the day you'd boss nobles around with nothing but thread and cloth, Cupcake."
Alex glanced at him, exasperated but fond. "If you're not here to help, at least stop distracting me."
"Oh, I'm helping," Riven said smoothly, pushing off the frame. "You'll need models, won't you? Might as well get used to staring at me on stage." He struck a mock pose, earning an inelegant snort from Edrin somewhere across the room.
"Please," Edrin said, holding up a length of fabric like it was a weapon. "The only thing you're good at posing as is trouble."
Kael, silent as ever, plucked the fabric from Edrin's hands before it tore. He smoothed it out, gaze flicking briefly to Edrin with something almost like amusement. The subtle exchange wasn't lost on Alex.
Saphira's sharp voice cut through the room. "Focus, all of you. This isn't a game. If this show fails, so does the infiltration."
Her words grounded them. The laughter faded into a determined hum of work. Dresses were cut, suits fitted, jewelry commissioned. Alex's designs took shape before his eyes—elegant, striking, impossible to ignore. For every detail perfected, the plan itself grew sharper.
Late one evening, as Alex adjusted the final stitches on a cloak meant for the grand finale, Riven came to stand beside him.
"You're brilliant, you know that?" Riven murmured, low enough for only Alex to hear. "Watching you work like this… it's hard not to be impressed. You've given everyone a reason to believe in this plan."
Alex flushed, ducking his head. "It's not me. It's the plan. It has to work."
"It will." Riven's hand brushed his briefly, a grounding touch. "Because you thought it through. Because you're leading us there."
Alex let out a breath, the knot in his chest easing just a little. Around them, the room buzzed with energy, a team united under one shared goal.
The stage was nearly set. Soon, it would be time to see if their gamble could hold.