The ballroom of the Lunaris Grand Palace was adorned with floating lanterns, casting an ethereal glow on the polished marble floor. The air buzzed with the chatter of nobility, laughter dripping with the usual falsehoods, and flutes of wine delicately balanced between jeweled fingers. It was a glittering masquerade, the high society of Lunaris at its most decadent. Behind the opulent masks and silken gowns were the twisted secrets and fragile alliances that Morganna had come to love exposing.
And tonight, she intended to bring the illusion of grandeur crashing down.
Morganna moved through the throng, her crimson gown trailing behind her like blood in water. Her mask was minimal, nothing to hide, unlike the others in the room. Instead, her presence was the epitome of boldness: a symbol of someone who was too powerful to fear recognition. She could almost taste the unease of the people around her, some murmuring in fearful whispers while others made a show of ignoring her.
"Quite the gathering, isn't it?" Lucian murmured at her side, his own mask more concealing. He wore deep navy and silver—a respectable, if intentionally bland, choice. He looked uncomfortable, pulling at his collar as he glanced around the room.
Morganna shot him a lazy smile, her eyes glowing beneath the dimmed light of the chandeliers. "Oh, Lucian, you should learn to enjoy these occasions. There's something quite poetic about watching the upper crust obliviously teeter on the edge of ruin. It's like watching moths dance around a flame. They have no idea how hot the fire truly is." She twirled a wine glass in her hand, swirling the dark liquid within like it was the lifeblood of her enemies.
Lucian sighed. He had learned long ago that Morganna had a flair for the dramatic—a flair that he had come to begrudgingly admire, though he'd never admit it aloud. "What's your game this time, Morganna?" he asked, voice lowered to barely a whisper.
Morganna took a step closer to Lucian, leaning in until her lips were near his ear, her breath barely a ghost against his skin. "Tonight, we're going to crown a prince," she whispered, her tone dripping with venomous excitement. "And we're going to ensure it is the worst possible choice for everyone involved."
Lucian frowned. "Wait, you're helping one of them? Which one?" His eyes flitted across the ballroom, landing on the princes. Each stood surrounded by their sycophants, rivals masked by cordial smiles.
"Patience, dear Lucian," Morganna smirked. "It's the beauty of chaos—only I know where it will strike. The fun is in watching them believe they have control."
She sauntered away, her gaze settling on Prince Leontius. Leontius—the favored contender. Handsome, charming, and popular among the merchants and artisans of Lunaris, he had been pegged as the people's favorite for good reason. He wore his blonde hair perfectly coiffed, his polished armor under his princely attire just visible enough to remind everyone of his martial prowess. Leontius radiated virtue.
Morganna hated him instantly.
The plan was simple—expose him, tarnish his name, turn every single ally he thought he had against him, and watch as he fell to nothing. In his pride, he had already provided her the perfect means to do so.
With a snap of her fingers, she summoned a faint wisp of chaos magic. It slithered between her fingers like a snake, a translucent curl that disappeared as she released it, sending it slinking across the ballroom floor towards Leontius. She watched with a wicked smile as the magic slid up his boots, sinking into the fabric without anyone the wiser.
Leontius, oblivious to the spell that now wrapped around his mind, raised his glass and began his speech—a rallying call to prosperity, unity, and the "true Lunaris spirit." Morganna nearly laughed. Her magic curled within him, nudging at those parts of his mind most vulnerable to his insecurities. The words he began to say twisted, their meanings turning subtly sour.
"...and we must remember that those who challenge Lunaris from within, those who seek to exploit the freedoms our federation values, must be crushed without mercy. We cannot show kindness to the undeserving—"
The crowd shifted, murmurs breaking out. Lucian looked at Morganna with wide eyes, but she simply watched, her smile widening with glee.
"We will rise above the weak, as is our destiny. Only those who contribute are worthy of Lunaris' blessings!" Leontius's voice rose, fueled by the emotions Morganna was feeding him—an all-consuming arrogance that spread like wildfire.
The audience—those who moments ago were enthralled by the charismatic prince—now stared in dismay and shock. Gasps echoed as Leontius's words became vile, the illusion of perfection shattering. He ranted about strength, superiority, and the unworthiness of the common folk. His eyes glowed with righteous fury, but all Morganna saw was the twisted creation of her own influence.
Leontius's chief supporters exchanged glances, confusion turning to discomfort, then to disgust. One by one, they turned their backs on him, subtly distancing themselves in the crowded room. A few began to whisper among themselves—about his mental stability, his ability to lead. It wouldn't take long before they would desert him entirely.
Morganna's pulse quickened, an exhilaration coursing through her veins as she savored the scene—the once beloved prince, now marred by his own unfiltered thoughts, his face flushed as he continued his rant, unaware of the damage already done.
Lucian stepped closer, his voice a quiet, horrified whisper. "You've ruined him. They're all going to turn on him."
Morganna turned her gaze to Lucian, her golden eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight like a cat watching its prey. "No, dear Lucian. He ruined himself. I merely showed them who he truly is." She laughed, a sound like silk shredding, her fingers lightly resting on his arm. "Do you see now? They all fall—not because I push them, but because they cannot hold their own weight once the veneer of decency is stripped away."
Lucian shook his head, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of doubt, perhaps even understanding—and Morganna relished it. She pulled away, leaving Lucian to his thoughts, and strode towards the exit, her crimson gown swishing behind her.
As she left the ballroom, Morganna turned her head slightly, watching Leontius struggle to regain control of his speech, sweat beading on his forehead, his loyalists scattering like rats from a sinking ship. She smiled to herself.
It was a beginning—a delicious beginning. One prince's ruin, a new seed of discord, and more than enough to set the entire Federation down the path of fracturing from within.
She exited into the cool night, the masked laughter and music fading behind her. Morganna inhaled deeply, the scent of imminent chaos thick in the air.
Tonight was merely the start. The strings of Lunaris had begun to unravel, and she was already planning her next move.
"One down," she whispered to herself, her golden eyes glowing against the moonlit courtyard. "And many more to go."