Ahce's POV
The night of the royal ball arrived like a storm dressed in velvet.
The entire empire seemed to breathe in rhythm with the sound of orchestras and rustling silk. Xirudah's capital shimmered under floating lanterns and glass chandeliers that dripped from the vaulted ceiling like stars brought to heel.
The royal family spared no expense. After all, this was not merely a celebration, but a political statement, one where alliances were measured not in words, but in glances and dance steps. And I, Ahce Pentecase, newly named heir to the first Ducal House of Fienro, was to attend as the honored guest.
Every inch of me was tailored to perfection. The deep sapphire gown clung to my frame, embroidered with silver threads that caught the light like flowing constellations. My hair was pinned with the heirloom crest of the Pentecase, an unmistakable declaration of who I was and what power I carried.
