Fireworks lit up the night sky over Eldorath, bursting in radiant colors that painted the city in dazzling hues. Townsfolk marveled at the spectacle, their faces illuminated with awe. The military forces of foreign kingdoms, visiting Eldorath for this grand celebration of unity and prosperity, mingled among them. Soldiers whooped and cheered as they entered bars, eager to let loose, while others were unceremoniously tossed out for being too rowdy. Stores remained open past hours, shopkeepers welcoming soldiers looking to buy gifts for their loved ones back home.A mixed patrol of Golden Mane and Silver Horn Knights rode through the crowded streets, their gleaming armor catching the light of lanterns. They guided their horses with practiced ease, keeping the peace and breaking up any fights before they could escalate. From deep within the sanctums of the Order of the Stag, its members meditated in unison. Their collective power foresaw potential threats to the kingdom, their visions relayed promptly to the patrol units, ensuring Eldorath's safety.Meanwhile, the Crimson Shield stood resolutely at the castle gates, checking identification and paperwork alongside the kingdom's local police force. Their vigilance was unwavering, a final line of defense against any trouble that might disrupt the celebrations.Within the castle walls, the grandeur of the night continued. Nobles and royals from across the realms roamed freely, some taking guided tours led by historians, while others gathered in the grand hall. The hall buzzed with lively conversation, music, and laughter. The atmosphere brimmed with anticipation and opportunity, a rare mingling of cultures that rarely crossed paths.Near the bar, Orcs of the Thukar Region—draped in dragon scales and other exotic hides—let out hearty, booming laughs. Pixies from the Stardust Kingdom flitted around them, adding their mischievous giggles to the raucous scene. Together, they demanded the bartender bring out more ale, their enthusiasm infectious. The Orcs carried their oversized mugs over to the human guests, handing them drinks and bursting into more laughter when the humans struggled to lift the massive tankards.On the other side of the room, Elves from the Empire of Solaria looked on with thinly veiled disdain, averting their gaze from the raucous display. Further away, Draconian nobles from the Lost Library sat smoking their pipes, engaged in a deep discussion with Eldorath's philosophers. The air around them buzzed with intellectual debate, as they delved into topics like metaphysics, the nature of god, and ancient philosophies.Amid this spectacle, young bachelors from noble families prowled the hall, eager to make advantageous connections or win the favor of eligible noblewomen. Parents watched from the sidelines, their eyes filled with hope and ambition.At the center of it all, Baron Thorne stood with a drink in hand, a smirk playing on his lips as socialites swarmed around him. His charisma was undeniable, and he commanded the room's attention effortlessly. A short distance away, Seraphina deflected the advances of eager bachelors, her smile cheeky yet dismissive. The Silver Horn Knights nearby ensured that anyone who dared to argue quickly reconsidered.Overlooking the grand hall from an elevated position, Lord Crawley—the Honor Guard Commander—stood alongside two other Honor Guards. Their ornate golden armor gleamed under the chandeliers, and their eyes scanned the room with vigilance, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice. In the shadows, the "inner circles" of the knightly orders guarded their commanders, ever watchful.Lord Crawley suddenly stepped forward, striking the butt of his spear twice on the ground. The loud boom echoed through the hall, silencing the crowd."Lords and dames of Eldorath! Queens and kings from all over! I present to you the King, the Queen, and Her Royal Highness!"Trumpets blared, and the grand doors swung open. King Varrick strode in, wearing his military uniform adorned with an array of medals and ribbons. Queen Catelyn followed, her regal dress resembling the wings of a butterfly, a masterpiece of elegance. Princess Elara entered last, dressed in the gown Aedric had made for her, the shimmering fabric accentuated by a necklace—a priceless heirloom once gifted to Queen Elowen, the heroine who ended the Elf and Human civil war.Elara waved shyly at the crowd as the King and Queen took their places. King Varrick stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Good evening, everyone! I see the Orcs of Thakur have already made a dent in our wine supply!" His booming voice carried across the room.The Orc Chieftain Thakur IV let out a thunderous laugh. "HA HA! KING VARRICK! YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD US TO DRINK ON THE WAY HERE! THIS IS BARELY A CHALLENGE!"Varrick joined in the laughter. "Footmen! Bring out my special stock!"Footmen scrambled to wheel in a wagon laden with barrels of the King's best liquor. The Orcs clapped with delight."Before you dig in," Varrick continued, "I want to remind you all to have fun! Enjoy the food, the company, and the night! Let this gala officially begin!"The hall erupted in applause and cheers as the festivities resumed. Varrick joined the Orcs, ready for a drinking contest, while Queen Catelyn retreated to a private area with other queens. Left to her own devices, Elara scanned the room, her heart heavy with nostalgia. Memories of sneaking out with Seraphina and Aedric to join the squires' revelries tugged at her, but those days felt far away. Seraphina had grown distant, and Aedric was on a mission. The loneliness gnawed at her.Taking advantage of the chaos, Elara slipped away from the grand hall. She navigated the castle's labyrinthine corridors, dodging servants rushing with trays and barrels. A chill ran down her spine as a cold hand gripped her shoulder. She turned, dread pooling in her stomach.Baron Thorne stood there, smiling. "Finally, we're alone.""Leave me alone, Garrick," Elara whispered, her voice trembling. "Leave. Me. Alone."He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with a twisted amusement. "You've gotten bold, haven't you? That's new. I remember you being quite... different a few years ago."Elara clenched her fists, anger and fear warring within her. "You took advantage of me... How could I ever forgive you?"He leaned in, his breath brushing her cheek. "Is that really how you remember it? You were eager, as I recall.""Stop," she said, her voice cracking. "You're trying to gaslight me, and it won't work.""Oh?" He moved closer. "Is it not working?"A soft clearing of the throat broke the tension. Seraphina stood a few paces away, her hands clasped in front of her. "Baron Thorne," she said, her voice steady, "the King requests your presence. I hope you've brought your best drinking capacity—you'll need it."Baron Thorne straightened, smirking. "Ah, Seraphina. Always the dutiful guardian." He threw Elara one last look. "I'll be stationed at the castle from now on, princess. We'll be seeing a lot more of each other." With a mocking wave, he walked off.Seraphina approached Elara. "All due respect, Your Highness, but I don't know what you ever saw in—Elara?"Elara had dropped to her knees, her hands trembling. Her breathing came in short, panicked gasps, her vision tunneling as she clutched her chest. She began to sway but collapsed toward her side. Seraphina lunged forward, catching her."ELARA! STAY WITH ME! GUARDS! SOMEONE! ANYONE! HELP!"Two Silver Horn Knights rushed over, followed by a maid and the castle's chef. Together, they worked to aid the princess, Seraphina's voice echoing with desperation.