Scene 15:

The carriage wheels rattled over the cobbled road, swaying gently with each turn. Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, catching the gold embroidery on Celene’s dress. She fiddled with her ribbon, her brows knitting.

“Why are we going to the palace?” she finally asked, her voice carrying both curiosity and reluctance.

Tharald glanced at her from across the carriage. “The Emperor asked last time I met him… to bring my granddaughters. Today, we honor that request.”

Celene leaned back, pouting. “Does he even remember me?”

Serelith, seated beside her, kept her gaze on the passing scenery. She didn’t speak, but a faint smile touched her lips at the thought of stepping into the imperial palace for the first time.

“You will both behave,” Tharald continued, his tone firm but not unkind. “The court’s eyes are sharp, and the Emperor’s sharper still.”

Celene crossed her arms. “As if I’d do anything wrong.”

Serelith glanced at her sister briefly, then returned to the window. She could almost see the palace gates in her mind—tall, unyielding, gilded by the sun. Whatever awaited them inside, she would be ready.

The horses quickened their pace. The palace was drawing near.

Both of them fell silent after that.

Celene shifted in her seat, her legs moving restlessly under the heavy folds of her dress. The fabric shimmered faintly whenever the light caught it—its pale gold hue blending perfectly with her soft blonde hair. Her red eyes, however, darted toward the window every now and then, betraying the nervous flutter building in her chest.

Serelith, on the other hand, sat straighter. Her dark hair, tied neatly, framed a face that carried the sharp lines of their grandfather, Tharald. Her expression was calm, but her gaze was alive with quiet anticipation.

“Stop moving your legs,” Serelith murmured without looking at her sister.

“I can’t help it,” Celene whispered back. “It’s the palace… The palace!” She tried to sound annoyed, but her voice trembled slightly.

“You’ve been there before,” Serelith reminded her.

“Yes, but not like this,” Celene muttered, lowering her gaze. “Last time I was just a child. This time… people will look at me differently.”

Tharald, who had been watching them both, spoke with a hint of amusement. “The court doesn’t eat you alive, Celene—at least, not if you hold your tongue.”

“That’s not comforting,” Celene replied dryly, making Serelith smirk faintly.

Outside, the buildings began to thin. The cobbled street widened, lined with guards in imperial colors. Far ahead, the palace walls rose into view—tall, unyielding, their stonework gleaming under the sun. Beyond them, the spires reached high, crowned with banners that shifted lazily in the wind.

Celene’s restless movement slowed as her eyes widened. “It’s… bigger than I remember.”

Serelith leaned forward slightly, the faintest spark lighting her eyes. “And far grander.”

The carriage slowed, the rhythmic clatter of hooves softening. Celene’s fingers tightened around her skirt, while Serelith’s hands rested neatly on her lap.

Tharald’s voice cut through the stillness. “Remember—stand tall, speak only when needed, and watch more than you talk.”

The carriage rolled under the shadow of the towering gates. Guards bowed. Trumpets sounded faintly in the distance.

The palace had arrived to meet them.

The grand court was silent except for the echo of their footsteps. The young emperor, draped in royal blue robes, observed them with a calm yet piercing gaze.

“Your eldest one looks exactly like you,” he remarked to Tharald, eyes resting on Serelith. “Platinum hair and lime-green eyes. And the youngest one… like her mother.”

Celene, flustered under his attention, blurted, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

A faint smirk curved his lips. “You thank me? For stating the truth?” His voice was smooth, but the air around them seemed heavier.

Tharald’s brow twitched. Celene lowered her gaze, fingers gripping her dress, while Serelith’s eyes wandered curiously across the gilded hall.

The emperor chuckled softly. “She’s young, so I’ll let that slide. Interesting.” He turned to Serelith. “Do you like the palace?”

Serelith bowed her head slightly. “Yes, Your Majesty. It’s grand and… peaceful. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”

The emperor’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

It was clear Tharald felt a quiet pride, even if only a little. As the adults talked, the children grew restless. The emperor smiled and said, “Why not let them explore? With attendants, of course.”

Celene nodded, “I’d love to see the garden.” She walked off with an attendant, her eyes bright.

Serelith tugged the attendant’s sleeve. “May I visit the training grounds?”

The attendant smiled warmly, “Of course, follow me.”

With that, the children set off, their curiosity guiding their steps through the vast palace halls.

Both places were in opposite directions. After a few minutes, Serelith reached the training grounds.

She eyed the swords carefully, her fingers itching to touch, but the attendant warned,

“Don’t touch it, little lady.”

Nearby, a boy about seven practiced swordsmanship. He wasn’t a prince—no blue hair like the emperor. Serelith watched intently. “I wish I could learn that,” she whispered.

The attendant smiled. “Perhaps one day, with enough courage and practice.”

After a few minutes, the boy stopped practicing and wiped the sweat from his brow. Serelith glanced at the attendant beside her and asked quietly, “Who is he?”

The attendant smiled slightly. “He is Alaric Dareth Valemont.”

“Valemont?” Serelith murmured under her breath, surprised. From the Grand Duchy? She had learned the names of noble houses during her etiquette lessons. The name carried weight.

Alaric noticed her watching and glanced her way, but didn’t approach. She didn’t move either. They simply looked at each other with quiet curiosity.

The boy muttered softly, “She looks like the Former Count Veylor.”

Serelith blinked. Did he say Veylor? That was the noble house she belonged to.

The attendant cleared his throat gently. “My lady, we should be leaving now.”

Reluctantly, Serelith turned and began to follow the attendant. But as she walked away, she glanced back at Alaric. He was still watching her too.

The attendant noticed and said, “He doesn’t usually speak to girls his age.”

Serelith frowned, “Why not?”

“His family expects him to be focused on training and duty,” the attendant explained. “But it seems he finds you… interesting.”

Serelith smiled faintly, a mix of curiosity and something unspoken passing between her and Alaric. For a moment, the bustling training grounds felt silent around them.

As they moved farther away, Serelith couldn’t help but whisper, “Maybe one day, I’ll learn swordsmanship too.”

The attendant nodded kindly. “If you wish, you must be brave.”

Alaric watched her until she disappeared from sight, feeling a strange pull he hadn’t felt before. Usually distant, he wondered if this quiet girl could be different.