The Chief of Palace Staff upon return wasted no time, barking orders and organizing the new recruits.
Within minutes, the 100 newly hired staff were swiftly divided into groups of ten, each assigned different tasks for the evening's royal ball.
Lani found herself grouped for kitchen duties, while Maverick was dispatched to valet responsibilities.
Lani followed a line of her fellow workers into the heart of the palace's kitchen.
They passed through grand corridors lined with portraits of past rulers before arriving in the enormous kitchen—a marvel of polished counters and gleaming silverware.
The head chef stood waiting for them, an old man whose muscular frame was surprisingly robust for his age.
His intense gaze swept across the group, his mere presence demanding attention.
"Welcome to the most important room in the palace," he began, his voice strong and deliberate.
"Your job tonight is crucial. You are responsible for the well-being of the kingdom. If the king is sick, so is the kingdom. If the king is healthy, so is the kingdom."
His tone was serious, instilling in them the weight of their task.
The group nodded solemnly.
Without further ado, Lani and the others were ushered into a small, sterile room.
A fine mist sprayed over them, disinfecting their bodies before they were allowed to touch any food destined for the royal family.
They changed into kitchen attire—white coats, hair nets, gloves, and face masks—ready to prepare the grand feast.
Meanwhile, outside the palace walls, Maverick stood among the valet crew in the expansive field where guests' cars would be parked.
The head valet briefed them on handling the expensive vehicles of the kingdom's wealthiest guests.
He emphasized the importance of respect and care for each car, but Maverick barely registered the instructions.
His mind was elsewhere, his sharp eyes scanning the palace grounds.
While others focused on their valet duties, Maverick was mapping out something far more serious—an escape route for the biggest heist of their lives.
He smirked as he mentally traced the paths from the fields to the palace's lesser-known corridors.
The kingdom's wealth and its priceless treasures were almost within his grasp.
As the sun began to set, the palace transformed.
Grand chandeliers sparkled to life, illuminating the regal hallways and casting a warm glow over the grounds.
Guests began arriving in droves, their sleek, luxury vehicles lined up outside as the valet crew scrambled to park them.
The powerful and wealthy of the kingdom, adorned in extravagant ball gowns and finely tailored suits, stepped out of their cars, preparing for a night of celebration.
In the royal chambers, Prince Arthur stood before a full-length mirror, adjusting his ceremonial attire.
The fabric shimmered under the dim light, accentuating the golden emblems of his status. Gregor assisted him with the final touches.
"Do you think I should move back to the palace?" Arthur asked, his voice thoughtful, as Gregor fastened a pin to his chest. "Father's been urging me to return."
Gregor's eyes remained focused on his task, though his voice carried the weight of wisdom.
"Your Highness, you should only return if you feel ready. It must be your decision, not one born of obligation."
Arthur smiled slightly, appreciating the advice. "Maybe I should make you my head advisor instead," he teased.
Gregor chuckled, stepping back to admire his work. "That wouldn't be a bad idea, Your Highness."
Elsewhere in the palace, the Chief of Palace Staff was summoned again to the chambers of Prince Alexander.
Her heart raced with fear as she made her way to his quarters, knowing the weight of what was at stake.
She entered cautiously, bowing low. "Your Holiness, you summoned me."
Alexander stood by the window, dressed in his royal regalia.
The dim evening light cast shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable.
In a swift, startling motion, he turned and closed the distance between them, his hand wrapping around her throat.
She gasped, her hands instinctively reaching up to try and loosen his grip.
"Make sure everything goes according to plan tonight," he hissed, his breath hot on her face. "If Arthur is not dead by midnight, you can kiss your husband and child goodbye."
He released her, and she collapsed to her knees, gasping for breath.
Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him in desperation. "Please, Your Holiness, spare my family," she begged.
But Alexander, cold-hearted as ever, merely turned away from her, resuming his position by the window.
His eyes flickered with interest as he noticed two figures sneaking through the palace grounds in the fading light—Lani and Maverick.
Outside, in the shadows near the edge of the palace, Lani's heart raced as she followed Maverick toward their planned entry point.
The excitement in Maverick's eyes was palpable as they moved silently across the palace lawns.
"Are you sure about this?" Lani whispered nervously, her voice barely audible beneath her mask.
"Yes," Maverick replied confidently. "The late queen's crown is in the royal memorial room. If we can get our hands on it, we're set for life."
Lani swallowed hard.
The enormity of what they were about to do weighed heavily on her, but Maverick's determination was contagious.
She had come too far to turn back now.
Back inside, the royal ball was in full swing.
The grand ballroom, adorned with the finest drapes and chandeliers, was packed with guests.
The sound of clinking glasses and soft murmurs filled the air as attendees admired the grandiosity of the evening.
Suddenly, the room fell silent.
All eyes turned toward the sweeping staircase as the king, Henry, descended with his queen consort by his side.
Their regal attire sparkled under the lights, a symbol of power and authority.
"Thank you all for coming," King Henry began, his voice carrying through the room. "Tonight, we celebrate the return of my son and Your Crown Prince, Prince Arthur."
The crowd erupted in soft applause as the spotlight shifted to the top of the staircase, where Arthur now stood.
The room was bathed in a reverent silence as Arthur began his descent, his every step deliberate and firm.
The sound of his footsteps echoed through the grand hall, a powerful reminder of his status as the kingdom's future.