As the evening unfolded, Lyra, with her grace and poise, began to steal the very attention that Medea had so thoroughly anticipated would be hers alone. The more the spotlight shifted toward the young princess, the more Medea's frustration simmered beneath the surface, her teeth clenched tightly together. In a barely audible hiss, she muttered through gritted teeth, her words laced with venom.
"We shall see how you fare once that attention is no longer yours. How dare you steal my spotlight!"
With an air of superiority, Medea clapped her hands sharply, summoning the attendants to arrange two chairs beside her on the stage, one for Lyra and one for Astrid.
"Come, my dear princess. Let us take our seats," Medea announced, her voice ringing out, as she gestured toward the chairs. "It is time for the gift-giving."
The guests, all caught in a moment of disbelief, watched with wide eyes as Medea, the host of this grand occasion, extended such a public invitation to Lyra. Never had they witnessed such a spectacle, where the crown princess—whose very presence had overshadowed all others—would sit so openly next to the host, Medea herself, during the traditional exchange of gifts. It was a strange, unprecedented sight, one that left many uncertain of how to react.
And yet, it was not Medea's actions that stunned them most, but Lyra's calm and composed response. She smiled, a serene expression settling on her features as she moved with poise to take her seat next to Medea.
"With pleasure," she responded, her voice like soft silk.
Medea, her gaze sharp and calculating, cast a side-eye toward Lyra. Just you wait, she thought with quiet malice, you will soon feel the sting of humiliation when all these guests shift their focus back onto me and ignore you.
As Medea entertained such thoughts, her eyes shifted to Baron Gavin, who, much to her disdain, was approaching the stage with uncharacteristic hesitance. The sight of him, nervously dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief, only deepened the irritation bubbling within her. His twitching hands, his inability to meet her gaze, all served to fuel the fire of her growing resentment.
Gavin was accompanied by his young son, who, with a mixture of pride and hesitation, carried a box containing his carefully selected gift for the evening. When the pair finally reached the stage, Medea greeted them with a practiced warmth, her smile never wavering.
"Welcome, Lord Gavin. It is always an honor to see you."
"Ah... yes," Gavin stammered, still unable to rid himself of the nervous sheen of sweat on his brow. He glanced at Lyra, then at Medea, before bowing slightly to the princess. "I greet your highness, the Crown Princess Lyra."
Lyra, ever gracious, nodded her acknowledgment, while Medea's fingers tightened into a fist, her nails digging into her palm, as though she could summon some semblance of control through sheer will alone.
"Please, go ahead with your gift," Medea insisted, though her voice trembled slightly with restrained fury.
It was at that moment that Karen, an unspoken ally to Medea, interrupted. Gavin let out a quiet sigh of relief, giving a subtle nod to his son, signaling that it was time for the boy to present the gift. With an air of ritual, the young lad stepped forward, lifting the lid of the ornate box to reveal its contents.
What lay inside the box was a necklace unlike any other—a stunning creation of three tones, each diamond shimmering with a unique radiance. The diamonds were not mere adornments; they were jewels of unparalleled rarity, reflecting hues of purple and sapphire blue. The crowd gasped in awe, their gazes transfixed upon this rare treasure.
But the only one who wore a smile was Medea, who had already seen the necklace before and knew exactly what to expect. Still, for the sake of appearances, she played her part, raising her voice in exaggerated admiration.
"How exquisite," she exclaimed, the drama in her tone enough to bring a round of applause from the guests.
Lyra, on the other hand, remained impassive, her eyes unmoved by the spectacle.
Gavin, not missing a beat, cleared his throat and continued, his voice a little too eager.
"...I know that today remains Lady Medea's birthday. However, this wonderful day would not have been complete without something special for our future queen, her Highness Crown Princess Lyra."
With that, he handed the box over to Lyra, his movements deliberate as he added, "Please accept this humble gift from your servant. I will be deeply grateful."
Medea's gaze, sharp as a blade, could have cut through glass. The sting of rejection was palpable as her eyes shot daggers at the baron.
"…Gavin…" she hissed, her voice a low growl, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface.
Still, Gavin, oblivious to the venom in her gaze, continued, "As for Lady Medea, I have chosen this gift to celebrate the joyous occasion."
With that, he presented a china dish—admittedly beautiful, but far less impressive than the necklace—one that was often found as decoration in the homes of the noble class, though not exactly rare.
Medea's face twitched in barely restrained anger as her nails dug deeper into her palm, leaving small crescent marks. The smirk on Gavin's face only intensified the storm brewing inside her.
Lyra, in her usual composed manner, broke the silence with an exclamation of surprise.
"Oh my! This is so out of the ordinary. I sincerely appreciate your kind thoughts, Lord Gavin. However, since today is Aunt's birthday, I cannot possibly take away her spotlight. It is her day to shine."
With an elegant smile, she continued, "Therefore, while I gratefully accept your gift, I would like to offer it to my aunt instead. I hope that is not considered rude. In return, I would like to gift you the management of the Le Amor Hotel, owned by the Royal Palace."
The gasps that followed were like a wave crashing over the room. Everyone knew that owning a hotel like Le Amor meant acquiring not just a piece of land, but an empire—a constant flow of wealth. The baron's eyes widened, his face a mixture of shock and awe.
"I… I thank you, Your Highness," he stammered, overcome with gratitude. "There are no words to express my thanks. I shall devote myself entirely to serving you."
With trembling hands, Baron Gavin lowered himself to one knee, swearing an oath of undying loyalty.
Lyra, ever the gracious princess, smiled softly in response.
"It is fine. I shall await your results. I trust you won't disappoint me."
"You have my word, Your Highness," the baron replied fervently.
As the evening wore on, Medea, who had been nearly forgotten, seethed in silence. She had planned to accept the gift from Lyra, but upon hearing the whispers circulating amongst the guests, she found herself unwilling to accept what seemed like nothing more than scraps left behind by Lyra. It went against her pride, her values, and her desire to be the one in control.
To regain the upper hand, Medea cleared her throat loudly, commanding the attention of the room.
"Congratulations, Baron," she said, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. "I wish you every success in your endeavors. As for my dear Lyra, I appreciate your thoughts. However, this gift was meant for you, and you remain the rightful owner. Am I wrong?"
She turned toward the guests, all of whom shook their heads in silent agreement.
"Please, do not fret over who takes the spotlight. I wish for you to enjoy this moment, as you deserve this gift."
Lyra nodded, offering a warm smile in return, but said nothing more. Medea, hoping for a response—perhaps a humble "thank you"—was once again left wanting, her expectations dashed.
By the end of the evening, the gift-giving hour had turned into a spectacle of sorts, with guests eager to present their offerings to Lyra, rather than Medea. The jewels, the rare treasures, all found their way into the princess's hands, while the hastily chosen trinkets went to Medea, her face growing red with humiliation.
Fuming with rage, Medea ended the event abruptly, instructing the guests to proceed to dinner. As they left, Lyra, ever the picture of grace, instructed her maids to take the gifts to her palace.
Medea, who had been seething in silence, couldn't resist one last remark as she eyed the gifts being carted away.
"Hand them here. I will take them to my room," she said, her voice tight with barely concealed fury.
Lyra's lips curved into a sly smile as she looked back over her shoulder.
"But you said you didn't covet them, no?"
With a dismissive flick of her hand, she motioned for her maids to leave, leaving Medea standing there, seething with rage, a figure of unrestrained fury amidst the gifts she could not claim.
After Medea's party, rumors spread like wildfire, each more explosive than the last. Opinions varied, but one thing was clear: while some people stood by Lyra, the majority of the nobility condemned her actions, claiming her behavior reflected a lack of proper education. They were utterly stunned by her recent transformation over the past few months, struggling to comprehend the drastic shift in her demeanor.
"You should address those rumors," Astrid remarked, as she hurriedly packed her belongings.
Lyra, also packing, countered, "Why should I?"
"They're damaging your reputation," Astrid explained.
Lyra raised an eyebrow, "Have you ever wondered why no one criticizes Aunt Medea, Karen, or Wily when they do the same things?"
"They don't?"
"Not with such outrage," Lyra replied. "When you have a white cloth already stained with multiple spots of paint, another stain goes unnoticed. But if you start with a perfectly clean cloth, even a single drop of paint will be immediately spotted."
Astrid paused, looking confused. "So… what's this about white clothes? Who got their clothes dirty?"
Lyra sighed inwardly and chuckled softly. She realized Astrid had never quite understood her use of symbolism. "Never mind. Just focus on what you're doing. I'm finished here. You leave tonight, and I leave tomorrow night."
"I'm headed to Helios, and you're going to Gaia," Astrid noted. "I've always wondered what Gaia's like. Your friend lives there, right?"
"Yes, Lady Aurelia," Lyra answered. "She's already warned me about what to expect. First of all, Gaia cherishes nature above all. It used to be a land of farmers, and they treat nature like gold. Farming, gardening, agriculture — it's their life. And second, Gaia is the land of alcohol. They make more alcohol than fruits and vegetables. People drink it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and even their food contains high levels of alcohol. Children are exposed to low-concentration alcohol, and there are no laws banning it."
Astrid's eyes widened. "My goodness! You'll have to be careful not to get drunk."
"I will," Lyra replied. "Apparently, the locals have such a high tolerance for alcohol that it doesn't affect them much. They can handle even the strongest doses without getting intoxicated."
"Really? They don't get drunk?"
"No, not really," Lyra answered. "The frequent consumption has built their tolerance."
"That's impressive," Astrid remarked.
"I'm worried I might end up drunk and embarrass myself at a formal envoy," Lyra confessed.
Astrid laughed out loud. "I highly doubt that will happen. From what I remember, you fall asleep once you reach your alcohol limit."
Lyra flushed red. "That only happens when I feel safe and comfortable with my surroundings. If I'm around strangers, I worry about what I might do."
Astrid smirked. "So, did you feel safe and comfortable with Dylan?"
Lyra raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"You know, when you got drunk and he carried you on his back," Astrid teased.
A deep blush spread across Lyra's face as she quickly muttered, "I don't remember, I was drunk."
Astrid grinned mischievously. "Sure, if you say so."
Lyra quickly changed the topic. "Enough chit-chat. I have to review some documents. I want everything in order before I leave."
"Alright," Astrid said. "But I heard some strange rumors."
"About what?"
"Apparently, everyone has stopped doing business with Medea. Anyone connected to her in illegal dealings is being caught, but what's odd is that only her associates are getting caught. The rest of the mafia gangs are untouched. Do you know anything about that?"
Lyra's lips curled into a playful smile as she skipped over to the door. "Who knows?"
Astrid's curiosity piqued. "Tell me. Are you involved in this?"
"I wonder," Lyra teased, dodging the question as she waved and left, leaving a puzzled Astrid behind.
Having finished packing, Astrid wandered through the old, familiar halls of the main palace. A sudden pang of longing for her mother hit her hard, urging her to revisit the memories etched in the walls. As she roamed, nostalgia gripped her, filling her with a bittersweet sadness for a past that could never be again. Some parts of the palace were under renovation, ordered by Lyra herself.
Medea, however, strongly opposed these renovations. Yet, Lyra, who held more authority, countered her objections, asserting that Medea had no right to interfere. Despite this, Lyra was forced to relent when King Derek stepped in, arguing that the expenses weren't justified, even though Lyra had pledged to fund the renovations with her own savings.
As Astrid stood before the unfinished work, she overheard voices from across the hallway.
"I can't believe the drama they both caused at your party. How dare they!"
"What's worse is that after stirring up all that trouble, they're both off on their trips!"
"If it helps, Lyra's reputation did take a hit. People now think she's arrogant."
"Ha! That's what she gets for making us bow down to her. What a pompous little wench."
"And what about those who've stopped doing business with us? No one wants to deal with us anymore."
"That damn Atlas and Vile are targeting everyone who's been in contact with us."
"I'm telling you, it's all a scheme. They're trying to ruin our connections and dealings."
"What should we do now?"
"They're going separate ways for now. We'll have time to restore our reputation."
"Mother, how come they get invited to these trips and we don't? I want to visit Gaia or Helios too."
"Don't worry, dear, we will go."
"But how? Astrid's personally invited by the Queen of Helios, and Lyra is heading off to a political meeting."
"I can't speak for Helios, but as for Gaia, they're bound to hold a welcoming party for her."
"Maybe."
The voice that sounded like Medea's chuckled softly.
"Well, that settles it. Karen and I will go to attend the party. I'll have Oscar find out when it is. We'll go under the pretext of being concerned for Lyra, who's traveling alone for the first time. And since Derek doesn't know she's going, we'll make it sound like we're looking after her. This way, we'll have his permission, and we won't look like intruders."
"That's perfect! I'll go prepare my dress!"
Karen squealed with excitement, while Wily sulked.
"Mother, that's so unfair. I want to go too."
A new voice entered the conversation—it was Hubris.
"Me too."
"Don't worry, my dear boys. I'm taking Karen because the King of Gaia is young and unmarried. Imagine if Karen became Queen of Gaia?"
"I love that idea!" Karen exclaimed, while Wily pouted.
"But what about me, Mother? I've been wanting to get married for a while, but you never seem to care about that."
"Well, I have a special plan for you. Lady Aurelia, the daughter of Duke Atlas, is of age and unmarried. She's been staying in Gaia due to her health. You'll join us and spend time with her, trying to win her heart. If we win her over, Duke Atlas will be forced to side with us. This will weaken Lyra's support."
Astrid couldn't help but chuckle, overhearing this scheming. Lyra, who had been searching for Astrid, finally spotted her standing by a plain wall, giggling.
"What are you laughing about?"
"You won't believe what I just overheard. Aunt Medea wants Wily to marry Aurelia."
Lyra burst out laughing, her laughter filling the hallway. Medea and the children quickly withdrew, hoping they hadn't been overheard.
"Oh, this is too much! Wily and Aurelia? No way!"
"It seems they're trying to get Duke Atlas on their side."
"Well, let them try. Aurelia is already taken."
"What? You never told me this! When did that happen?"
"Not long ago. It was meant to be a secret, but it slipped out. Please, don't let Duke Atlas find out."
"I'm genuinely happy for her, so I'll never spill the beans. Duke Atlas is... quite protective of his daughter."
"Speaking of protective fathers, does Father know you're going to Gaia?"
Astrid narrowed her eyes at Lyra, who quickly averted her gaze.
"…He doesn't need to know."
"Lyra!"
Astrid's eyes widened as Lyra walked away, waving her hand nonchalantly.
"It's fine. I won't be gone for long."
"But he still needs to know about this."
"I told him already. He forbade me from going, saying that it's not a woman's place to travel for such small matters, especially when I'm destined to be Queen. He believes I should handle everything from the palace."
Lyra let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Isn't that ridiculous? How can I be a Queen if I can't even travel to help my people? These projects may be small, but they're important to them. I want to be involved at every step, even if it means enduring the scorching heat of the construction site."
"I see... and does your trip have anything to do with the fact that Dylan will also be there?"
At the mention of his name, Lyra froze.
Clearing her throat, she shyly interlocked her fingers.
"Well... that's just a little bonus, I suppose."
Astrid laughed at her sister, finding her adorably embarrassed.
"I bet Dylan's presence is the main reason you're going. Am I right?"
"Oh, shut up."
Flushed with embarrassment, Lyra playfully smacked her sister's arm and hurried off, leaving Astrid laughing behind her. Astrid followed with a smile, calling out, "Wait for me!"