~Flashback~

The cheerful murmurs of aristocrats and royals filled the ballroom. The white walls were decorated with light blue ornaments, as well as gold items to show the royal family's wealth. Five tall windows led out to the gardens on each side of the room, the sun's golden rays cascading across the floor.

A herald stood by the enchanting door above the stairs. Two butlers from the other side pushed the door open and stood by its sides. A loud bang resounded around the room, calling for everyone's attention.

“My Lords and Ladies, I announce the arrival of Her highness, Princess Enya!” the herald said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Enya walked through the doors, holding her head high and her shoulders back. She stopped at the top of the stairs as custom to allow her honored guests to bow at her entrance. As they did, Enya curtsied, her lime green ballgown twice her size and weighing almost half of her.

“My Lords and Ladies, I announce the arrival of His majesty, King Fraurien!” Enya stepped aside at the herald's words.

Like Enya, the King walked through the doors, stopping at the top of the stairs to stare over the sea of his guests. Everyone bowed, remaining so for a few seconds longer than they did the princess. The king waited for everyone to rise before lifting his arm for Enya. She placed a hand on his forearm, and the two descended the stairs, their movements graceful and elegant.

The King nodded his head to Enya once they reached the bottom.

Yes, father. Enya curtsied, turned, and entered the eye of the storm. She approached one of the many barons.

“Hello. It's nice to see you again, Your Excellency,” Enya said with a smile that hurt her soul. The man bowed slightly.

“Your Highness, it is my pleasure. I would never refuse an invitation from His Majesty.”

Of course, you wouldn't. Missing a celebration like this would prolong your climbing of the wealth ladder. Enya fought the urge to scowl at his artificial tone. After years of practice, Enya kept her smile with ease and said, “I'm glad to hear that. If you will excuse me, I must greet my other guests.” The baron bowed.

Enya wandered up to her next guest, a contessa. She greeted her with the same smile and listened to her excellency's hollow words.

As Enya combed through the guests, the same empty words and deceitful smiles appeared.

Same as always... How can father tolerate them? They're all here to gain favor for themselves. None of them actually care for us nor anyone else.

Enya roamed through the swarm of maggots, her eyes setting on Rayburn as he chatted with a beautiful duchess. A sour taste claimed Enya's tongue.

I can't believe father trusts you. You show people a captivating smile, but I can tell. There's something you're hiding, something you can't show anyone. Enya's eyes narrowed as the duchess placed a hand on Rayburn's shoulder. For a second, his smile wavered at the touch. I can tell. You're just like me, unable to handle this—this catastrophe. You're suffering, just like me.

As a young boy, the son of an esteemed knight, walked up to Enya, he said, “Your smile's fading.” Enya looked over to him and showed him a bright smile, her eyes exuding the complete opposite, warning him.

“That good?” she said, her tone deadly.

The boy laughed, saying, “Great!” Making sure no one was watching her, Enya stuck her tongue out at him before observing Rayburn once more.

I need to go greet him, but I'm not prepared for the lurching my stomach will experience.

“Did you hear? Rayburn is the guardian of someone, a parent. I heard a few barons talking about it.” Enya's eyes narrowed.

“I wonder if that's what he's hiding... No, it has to be something deeper,” Enya mumbled to herself. The boy nudged Enya in her side. “Jeez, Larealle. That hurts!”

“Sorry, but you had that crease in your forehead again. I don't think the King would like it if his daughter portrayed the serious image, especially at eleven years old.” Enya sighed to herself.

“You're right. Thanks, Larealle. I just hate forcing this stupid smile. It's not me.” For a split second, Enya's shoulders shrunk before she realized and held her 'perfect' posture once more. “Father will not allow disgrace to stain our name. This is what a princess must do. This is what I must do.”

Enya curtsied to Larealle and glided over to Rayburn. The duchess lifted her dress and curtsied, leaving Rayburn in time for Enya to greet him.

Before Enya reached him, Rayburn let out a soft sigh of relief, mumbling to himself, “She's gone.”

Placing on her signature, bright smile, Enya said, “Hello. It's nice to see you again, Your Grace.” Rayburn's eyes widened slightly, a little alarmed at her sudden presence. His hand crossed his chest to touch his opposite shoulder as he bowed his head. Rayburn stayed low for a few seconds longer than the rest of the guests to show his absolute respect for the princess.

Lifting his head, Rayburn said with an irritatingly gentle expression, “Your Highness, you are looking beautiful today as always.” The same sour taste greeted Enya with a vengeance, but her plastered smile stayed in place.

“Thank you. You are looking swell as well.”

“His Majesty tells me you're excelling in all your lessons. I don't see how you could fail, though. You've always been intelligent.”

“Oh, that father of mine,” Enya giggled, the high-pitched tone sounding cheerful as it stabbed deep into her chest. “He's always bragging about me, but it's not that impressive. I'm just following what my tutors teach me, is all.” Enya gripped the edge of her dress, making it look as if she were just pulling it up and not digging into it as not to draw any suspicions. Get me out of here!

As if hearing her wish, Larealle stepped in and said, “Your Grace, if I may, Her Highness is being called.” Relief flashed through Rayburn's eyes, Enya being the only one to catch it.

“Your Highness,” Rayburn said, bowing. Enya curtsied.

“Your Grace.”