In the luxurious dressing chamber of the royal palace, beneath the radiant glow of the chandelier, Rosalia stood upon the pedestal before the mirror wall.
The maids she had brought from her estate, along with the palace maid assigned to her, diligently worked to their best of ability to prepare her for the banquet.
Rosalia was fully aware of the maids' dissatisfaction with her choice of dress and her subtle makeup.
Her two personal maids, Merida and Cassy, did ask her with puppy eyes if this dress was her final choice hoping she would reconsider. However, Rosalia remained steadfast in her decision, rejecting the idea outright.
They wished for their lady to dazzle in the spotlight with extravagance, but Rosalia's firm refusal put an end to any further pleas.
On the other hand, the palace maids maintained their professionalism, refraining from offering any comments on her choice.
After all, today was her sixteenth birthday, and her official debutante as a young adult, an occasion most ladies of nobility waited with eagerness.
Most of the noble ladies spared no expense to stand out, adorning themselves in the most extravagant attire imaginable.
In an attempt to stand out the most on their debutante, some went to great lengths to make a memorable impression, arriving in costumes adorned with enormous wings and halos, some chose to embody ethereal beings like elves, while others attempted to emulate nymphs and fairies. However, a few unfortunate souls found themselves on the brink of a disastrous outfit malfunction, turning what was meant to be a whimsical entrance into a moment of potential embarrassment.
More so, as the betrothed of the Crown Prince of the Empire, one might have expected Rosalia to dress up in a manner befitting her prestigious status, like a majestic peacock displaying its splendor. However, the dress she chose for her debutante defied these extravagant expectations, radiating elegance with a delicate subtlety.
She donned an open shoulder dress, its soft sweetheart neckline accentuated the graceful curve of her collarbones and the flowing sleeves extending nearly to the base of the skirt had slit to allow ease of movement for her hands.
Rosalia couldn't resist a slight twirl atop her pedestal, her dress swirling around her in a dreamy gleam.
The back of her gown, elegantly cut to an empire waistline, seamlessly merged with the skirt, which cascaded down like liquid silk. Fashioned from a pinkish-white fabric of silky smoothness and lustrous sheen, with a thin outer layer of shimmering tulle, the dress exuded a delicate and ethereal charm.
Unlike the voluminous, space-consuming gowns favored by the noble ladies, as if they were maintaining a social distance, Rosalia had always preferred to adorn herself in light and airy dresses.
With the assistance of her maids, Rosalia slipped into her diamond-studded heels and adorned her ears with diamond tassel earrings. Parting her straight bangs and sweeping them gently aside, Rosalia watched as the maids meticulously secured a silvery diamond headpiece amidst her sleek locks. The shimmering diamonds contrasted beautifully with the deep raspberry pink strands cascading past her hips.
As a palace maid approached, bearing a jewelry box containing a diamond necklace so sizable it appeared capable of straining Rosalia's delicate neck, she spoke up with firm resolve, "No need."
"Pardon?" The palace maid seemed unsure of what Rosalia wanted, but her personal maids were accustomed to her preferences and sighed internally.
The necklace, part of a set including her headpiece, earrings, and heels, had been sent by the Crown Prince as a birthday gift for the banquet. While she couldn't refuse to wear all of them, she chose to forgo the necklace, opting instead to wear the other pieces of jewelry.
Her personal maids, accustomed to her customary omission of the necklace, exchanged knowing glances with the palace maids, who appeared slightly uncertain about her decision.
Since her maids seemed to have gotten along well enough with the palace maids, Rosalia trusted them to handle any necessary explanations or excuses for her decision.
In their noble society, the gift of a necklace from a man to a woman was considered a tangible expression and confession of romantic love.
Every time, the Crown Prince sent her a necklace as a gift, and every time, the necklace went directly to her wardrobe without a second glance.
She never wore any necklaces, he never questioned it.
A miracle if he even knew that a necklace, a symbol of love and affection, was being sent to his fiancée from his Palace by his attendants in his name.
Rosalia was, after all, well aware of the fact that the Crown Prince delegated the task of sending her occasional gifts to his close attendants, never bothering to inspect them of what it was himself.
As she stepped off the pedestal, her calm coral eyes cast a final glance at her reflection in the mirror. Satisfied with the outcome, she headed towards the door, where a royal knight awaited outside to escort her to the Crown Prince.
"My Lady!" Cassy called out to her as she hurried towards Rosalia with the engagement ring placed on a silver tray.
"..Oh, right. Thank you," Slipping the diamond ring on her finger, Rosalia sighed inwardly. She would have been in quite a predicament if she had proceeded without wearing the ring.
"No one will be able to look away from My Lady!" Cassy exclaimed with starry eyes.
"His Imperial Highness is so lucky to have you!" Merida chimed in from behind Cassy.
Rosalia let out a laugh as she stepped outside through the double doors opened by the other maids.
To the maids, it sounded like a laugh of bashfulness, but they couldn't have been more wrong.
Rosalia La Rouge, the sole child of Duke Richard La Rouge and the Fiancée of the Crown Prince of Evigheden Empire.
Her neck remained devoid of any accessory, yet nothing felt lacking. Rosalia didn't really require any additional adornments to enhance her beauty.
Famed as the 'Rose of the Frosted Garden' in the Empire of Evigheden, Rosalia La Rouge didn't need any effort to outshine anyone.
****
From her vantage point atop the stairs, Rosalia stared at the Crown Prince lost in his own world, his golden eyes, piercing yet distant, gazing vacantly into the air.
Escorted by the royal knight to the threshold of the grand hall, Rosalia stepped inside, her gaze drawn to the Crown Prince positioned below the stairs. He stood before the towering golden double doors, which would open onto a golden balcony flanked by twin golden staircases, framing the banquet hall below. The elevated platform served as the stage for royal entrances, commanding attention and reverence.
It was due to the Emperor's wishes, that instead of her family estate in the capital or the Duchy of La Rouge in the North of the Empire, Rosalia was granted the early birthday gift of holding her debutante birthday ball in the Imperial Banquet Hall reserved solely for the Imperial Family.
The echo of her high heels reverberated through the hall as Rosalia descended the stairs with deliberate grace. If the Crown Prince was gentleman enough, he would have been above the stairs, ready to escort her down the troubling stairs instead of staring off into space even as he heard her enter.
The same as always.
'But at least...' Rosalia observed the Crown Prince.
At least, for today he was dressed up to his title of the Crown Prince.
His usual tousled seafoam green hair was styled in a side swept style. His slightly wavy locks that cascaded with a natural, effortless charm, gleamed in the chandelier's glow, and the sides were neatly trimmed, while the back retained a bit of length.
His attire was impeccably regal ensemble of gold and white with a silken white cape draped over his shoulders and fastened by an emblematic brooch, a roaring golden lion, the crest of the royal family.
He was dressed extravagantly today, far from his usual loose attire which always seemed too careless and easy going even for a mere prince, let alone the Crown Prince of the Empire.
Rosalia knew that the Crown Prince's ability to pull off his carefree attire on ordinary days was largely due to his blindingly handsome face.
As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Rosalia called out to the Crown Prince with a graceful curtsy.
"Good evening, Your Imperial Highness."
The Crown Prince's golden gaze shifted towards her, and his usual indifferent tone reached her ears.
"Let us proceed," he said, extending his gloved hand to escort her.
Rosalia accepted his hand, standing beside him in front of the towering door.
That was all.
He didn't even bother wishing her happy birthday.
Their customary silence enveloped them as the grand door slowly swung open to reveal the banquet hall, accompanied by the magical fanfare of the herald announcing their entrance.
"His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Luverian Lorath Von Evigheden and Her Ladyship, Rosalia La Rouge!"