[Cedric Ashvale's POV]
[Cedric's Room]
I stood in front of the mirror while a maid circled me, fussing over every crease and wrinkle she could find.
"Stop slouching. You'll wrinkle the fabric."
My reflection frowned.
"I'm not slouching."
Mara continued as if she hadn't heard me.
"And try to smile when you speak to the other guests. It's your party—people are coming to meet you. You need to make a good impression."
I sighed and tried to smile.
Mara burst out laughing. "You look like you swallowed a lemon."
I glared at her.
She only grinned, her eyes softening. "Don't be nervous. Just be yourself—that's enough."
"I'm not nervous. It's just a party. It's not a big deal. There's no reason to be nervous."
"I know you better than you know yourself."
There was no arguing with that. After my mother died and Corvin left for his training, Mara had practically raised me. I'd never lacked for anything that mattered.
Mara stepped back, inspecting her work.
"Well," she said proudly, "I've done a good job, if I do say so myself."
I studied the mirror one last time. The reflection showed an Ashvale heir dressed in ceremonial colours, posture straight, expression carefully controlled.
"Don't crack," I muttered.
Mara smiled—warm and familiar. "You'll do fine, Cedric. Just don't let anyone knock you off balance. Guests or otherwise."
"You're not telling me something," I accused.
"You'll see soon enough," she replied mischievously. "Now go, before I do something embarrassing—like crying."
I stepped past her, then paused. "Thanks."
She waved me off. "Go have a great time tonight."
I smiled—and for once, it felt real.