Eleanor paced back and forth in her chambers, her frustration radiating off her in waves. The rich carpets muffled her hurried steps, but Greta, seated in a corner, wasn't spared from the storm. The maid watched nervously, occasionally murmuring attempts to calm her mistress.
"The gala is in three days, Greta!" Eleanor threw her hands in the air. "Three days, and I haven't even managed a proper conversation with him!"
"You're doing your best, my lady," Greta offered cautiously.
"My best?" Eleanor spun on her heel, her golden hair whipping over her shoulder. "My best is being ignored by the palace guards and dismissed at every attempt to meet him!"
Greta winced but didn't argue.
As if to add fuel to her anxiety, Greta had brought even worse news earlier: Lady Seraphine was already at the palace. No doubt charming her way into Prince Adrian's good graces.
Eleanor collapsed onto the settee, burying her face in her hands. "If only this blasted system would offer actual help instead of putting me in impossible situations!"
As if on cue, the System's familiar chime echoed in her mind.
"New quest: Craft a heartfelt gift for Prince Adrian. Success rate increases with sincerity."
Eleanor's head shot up. A gift? That was the System's grand idea?
Still, she latched onto the sliver of hope. Rising abruptly, she turned to Greta, her determination renewed. "Gather supplies—wood, paper, string, anything we can use. I'm making a gift."
Five hours later, Eleanor's room was an absolute disaster. Scraps of wood, crumpled paper, and frayed string littered every surface. Greta stood off to the side, looking overwhelmed, while Eleanor hunched over a small table, glaring at the misshapen object in her hands.
The plan had seemed straightforward enough: craft a charm resembling a hawk, a subtle nod to the royal crest of House Adrian. It was meant to symbolize loyalty, strength, and vigilance.
But reality was less forgiving.
Eleanor squinted at her latest attempt, a wooden figure with uneven wings and a beak that drooped pitifully to one side. She sighed, tossing it onto the growing pile of failures.
"I'm hopeless," she muttered, her shoulders sagging.
"You're not hopeless, my lady," Greta said quickly, though her tone lacked conviction. "Perhaps we could… purchase something instead?"
"No." Eleanor shook her head firmly. "The System said it has to be sincere. Buying something isn't the same."
Greta hesitated but didn't press further.
The System chimed again, cutting through Eleanor's despair.
"Reminder: Deliver the gift to Prince Adrian within five hours to maximize success."
"Five hours?" Eleanor groaned, pressing her fingers to her temples. "It's impossible!"
Still, she refused to give up. Taking a deep breath, she sat down with a fresh piece of wood and began carving. She poured every ounce of focus she had into the task, her fingers trembling as she worked.
When she finally finished, Eleanor held the charm up to the light. It wasn't perfect. In fact, it wasn't even close. The figure was lopsided, its wings uneven, and its overall shape leaned more toward "deformed pigeon" than "majestic hawk."
But it was the best she could do.
"I don't have time for another attempt," Eleanor said, her voice resigned. She turned to Greta. "Help me wrap it."
The charm was nestled inside a small box Eleanor had decorated herself, with delicate paper flowers and a handwritten note tucked inside. It wasn't much, but it was sincere, and that was what mattered—or so she hoped.
As the carriage rattled toward the palace, Eleanor sat with her hands clenched tightly in her lap. Greta sat beside her, casting worried glances in her direction.
"Are you certain about this, my lady?" Greta asked hesitantly. "The prince hasn't requested your presence. What if they turn us away?"
Eleanor's jaw tightened. "If Lady Seraphine can waltz into the palace whenever she pleases, then so can I. I won't let her have the upper hand without a fight."
Greta nodded, though her expression remained uneasy.
When they arrived at the palace gates, Eleanor's heart pounded as she stepped out of the carriage. To her surprise, the guards allowed her entry without much fuss. Perhaps Lady Eleanor's family name still held some weight, despite her recent missteps.
But her confidence faltered as they approached the prince's office. Two guards stood at attention outside the door, their expressions impassive.
Eleanor straightened her back and cleared her throat. "I need to speak with His Highness. It's urgent."
One of the guards glanced at her skeptically. "The prince is occupied with a guest at the moment. You'll have to wait."
Eleanor's frustration flared. "I've waited long enough. I insist on seeing him now."
The guard remained unmoved. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, my lady."
Before Eleanor could argue further, a sound from inside the office made her freeze.
Laughter.
A rich, masculine laugh that could only belong to Prince Adrian.
Her heart sank as a familiar, melodic voice followed.
Lady Seraphine.
Eleanor clenched her fists, a surge of helplessness washing over her. She had worked tirelessly, poured her heart into this gift, and yet Seraphine was already there, effortlessly charming the prince as she always did.
Greta touched her arm gently. "My lady, perhaps we should—"
"No." Eleanor cut her off, her voice trembling but resolute. "I didn't come this far to turn back now."
Taking a deep breath, Eleanor stepped closer to the door, ignoring the guards' disapproving stares. If Seraphine thought she could intimidate her, she was sorely mistaken.
It's not over yet, Eleanor told herself, gripping the small box in her hands. Not by a long shot.