Leander Celestis lowered his head, his movements tense, as he stepped forward into the stifling atmosphere of the central palace.
The solemn air hung heavy between them, a tension so palpable that even the female officials nearby sensed it.
In an effort to smooth things over, they exchanged lighthearted jokes and feigned cheerfulness, their laughter echoing awkwardly against the marble walls.
The tea ceremony concluded without further incident, but the unease lingered in the air like an unwelcome guest.
As Seraphina Evercrest and Lysander Celestis left the central palace, Lysander's demeanor changed immediately.
His hand, once gripping hers in a show of possession, now dropped coldly to his side.
Without a word or a glance back, he strode ahead, his long strides quickly putting distance between them.
Seraphina followed at a slower pace, the hem of her dress trailing behind her like a shadow.
His footsteps grew fainter, and eventually, Lysander disappeared from view entirely.
She quickened her steps instinctively, hurrying to catch up.
But before she could round the corner, a procession of palace maids appeared ahead of her.
At their center was a stunning figure, dressed in a radiant red gown embroidered with intricate flowers and birds.
The woman's face was delicate, her makeup flawless, and her every movement exuded a haughty confidence.
Seraphina stopped abruptly, her gaze fixed on the approaching figure.
"Well, isn't this Sister Seraphina?" the woman said with a sweet smile, stepping closer and clasping Seraphina's hand as though they were dear friends.
Seraphina's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes cold and distant as they met the other woman's gaze.
"Oh my, how foolish of me," the woman continued, her tone dripping with mockery. "Sister Seraphina is no longer the same as before. She is now the esteemed consort of the Ghost Prince himself." She giggled, her eyes shimmering with false humility and unmistakable malice. "I pay my respects to the queen's daughter-in-law. May you remain well."
She curtsied gracefully, but her actions were a mockery rather than an act of respect.
The maids behind her exchanged glances, some snickering openly, their disdain for Seraphina thinly veiled.
Seraphina's heart twisted painfully, but she kept her composure.
She met the woman's mocking gaze with steely resolve. "Sister Maelis," she said quietly, her tone even but her eyes sharp. "You're too polite. There's no need for such courtesy."
Standing before her was Maelis Blackthorne, daughter of Prime Minister Blackthorne and Seraphina's longtime nemesis.
This was the same Maelis who had pushed her into the icy lake during a poetry gathering, leaving her to nearly drown.
The same Maelis who had orchestrated the cruel rumors that tarnished Seraphina's reputation in the capital.
Maelis tilted her head slightly, her delicate brows arching in mock surprise. "Oh my, you speak with such authority now. I'm positively envious of the power and grace you've gained, Sister Seraphina." Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Seraphina said nothing.
She didn't need to—her silence and the icy glare in her eyes were enough to make Maelis hesitate.
The playful smugness in her expression faltered.
Sensing the shift, a clever maid beside Maelis stepped forward hurriedly, bowing politely as she spoke. "Miss Blackthorne, the queen and the crown prince are waiting for you. It wouldn't do to keep them waiting too long."
Maelis blinked, her confidence returning as she turned to the maid. "You're right. It would be improper to delay." With a pointed glance at Seraphina, she smirked. "Forgive me, Consort Evercrest, but duty calls. I wouldn't dare defy the queen's summons."
She laughed softly, her voice carrying an edge of triumph as she swept past Seraphina.
Her maids followed, their disdainful glances lingering on Seraphina until they disappeared around the corner.
Seraphina stood rooted to the spot, her gaze trailing after Maelis's retreating figure. Slowly, she exhaled, her hands curling into fists at her sides.
The late afternoon sun shone brightly overhead, casting golden light over the palace's towering spires and marble pavilions.
The grandeur of the palace of Caeslencrest Vale was undeniable, its carved beams and painted eaves a testament to the kingdom's wealth and power.
But Seraphina's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.
This place, she thought, was built on the ashes of the past.
Ten years had passed, and yet the earth beneath their feet and the sky above their heads still bore witness to what once was—the true Caeslencrest Vale Dynasty.
Her nanny's words echoed in her mind, a voice both stern and tender.
Sera, even as the crown prince's consort, you will walk among wolves and tigers. If you don't learn to become like them, how will you survive?
Her nanny's voice sharpened, heavy with the weight of grief. Sera, have you forgotten how your father and mother died?
Seraphina's chest tightened, her throat constricting with the effort to swallow the surge of emotion.
No. She had not forgotten.
To the world, she was Seraphina Evercrest, a noblewoman from the Evercrest Family. But she knew the truth.
Beneath the carefully constructed facade, she was Princess Amethyst, the last surviving heir of the true Caeslencrest Vale Dynasty.
And she would never forget.