The music began like the slow exhale of the night. Strings weaving through the air, soft and deliberate. Every noble in the hall turned toward the center as the herald's voice rang clear:
"Their Highnesses, Crown Prince Adrienne Aurelthar and Crown Princess Elara Veyldan, shall now lead the Imperial Dance."
Applause followed, delicate, yet expectant.
Adrienne extended his hand, his lips curved into a formal smile.
"Shall we, my lady?"he murmured, his voice smooth but tinged with warmth, something only Elara could catch.
Elara inclined her head gracefully, resting her hand upon his. "Of course, Your Highness."
They stepped into the light.
As the orchestra swelled, their movements became the center of the world. Elara's gown shimmered like liquid sunlight, and Adrienne's steady lead was both practiced and intimate.
They were the picture of poise. The future of the empire, moving as one.
But only Adrienne noticed that though Elara was there physically, her mind seemed far away.
Her smile did not reach her eyes.
Her steps were perfect, but her soul felt absent.
"Elara," he whispered, leaning closer as they turned. "You're quiet tonight."
"I suppose I am," she replied softly, her tone neither apologetic nor distant, merely factual. "It's… a beautiful evening."
Adrienne's brows knit slightly. "And yet, your mind seems elsewhere."
Her hand tensed just a little in his grasp. For a moment, she said nothing. Then, with a faint, almost wistful sigh:
"Tell me, Your Highness. Have you ever met someone whose presence feels… inexplicably familiar? As though you've known them before, even if it's the first time you've crossed paths?"
His jaw tightened, though his smile never faltered.
He followed her gaze, subtle but not enough to escape him, toward the Aetherion delegation.
There, among their ranks, stood the violet-haired scholar, her posture serene, her presence unassuming… yet Elara's eyes had flickered toward her more than once.
Adrienne, however, misread the direction slightly, his gaze landed on Kaelion.
So that's it, he thought grimly.
The foreign prince.
"Familiarity can be deceiving," Adrienne murmured, his tone clipped but controlled. "Especially with strangers who wear masks of courtesy."
Elara blinked, her expression cooling. "Perhaps. Or perhaps it's the soul that remembers before the mind does."
Adrienne's steps faltered for half a beat, subtle, but enough to reveal that her words had struck deeper than intended.
He smiled again, tighter this time. "Then allow me to make sure your soul remembers me, not them."
His arm drew her closer, his movements were firmer, and his lead was more assertive.
The nobles watching sighed in admiration, mistaking control for passion. Elara's lashes fluttered once, in surprise, then restraint. She said nothing.
But across the hall, Kaelion watched.
His golden eyes followed every motion of the dance. The way Elara's gown rippled like dawnlight, the faint crease in her brow when Adrienne drew her too close, and the quiet melancholy in her expression that no one else seemed to notice.
The orchestra's tempo lifted, one final spin, one graceful bow, and the dance ended in a shimmer of applause.
Adrienne bowed, offering Elara his hand as the music faded.
"Elara,"he murmured, "you've enchanted them all."
Her lips curved in a polite smile. "Then my duty is done, Your Highness."
Before he could respond, a voice rose above the applause.
"If I may," came the calm, sonorous tone of Crown Prince Kaelion Ardent Veyrath Aetherion, "I would like to request the honor of a dance with Her Highness, the Crown Princess of Aurelthar."
The air thickened. Conversations halted mid-breath. Every eye turned to the dais.
Adrienne's hand stiffened around Elara's.
Across the hall, Kaelion stood poised, unreadable, and confident, his golden gaze steady upon Elara. He bowed slightly toward the Imperial dais.
"With the Crown Prince's permission, of course."
A flicker of unease rippled through the nobles.
Such a request, between heirs of two empires, was as bold as it was symbolic.
Adrienne's voice, when it came, was soft, too soft.
"Your Highness Kaelion, I appreciate your… enthusiasm. But perhaps—"
Kaelion's faint smile stopped him. "Surely, it would only strengthen the bond between our empires to share a single dance, would it not?"
His words were perfectly diplomatic, yet the challenge in his tone was unmistakable.
The Emperor's gaze flickered between the two princes. The tension so sharp it could slice through the air.
Then Elara spoke, her voice calm, her eyes unreadable. "If it pleases both Your Highnesses, I will accept."
Adrienne looked at her. Surprise flickering behind the thin veil of his composure.
She met his gaze squarely, almost as if to say, You taught me to be gracious in front of the court.
Reluctantly, Adrienne stepped aside.
Kaelion approached, bowing with quiet elegance. As his hand met hers, something shifted. A strange stillness, a current that thrummed beneath her skin.
"Your Highness,"Kaelion murmured, his voice low. "We meet again."
Elara blinked. Yes, we met again, but the way you said it feels like we've met somewhere before that.
"Yes, at the jewelry shop," she replied, tone sharp but poised. "As someone who would not back down to a lady just to claim the jewellery he wanted."
Kaelion's lips curved. "Yes, but… I already knew you, long before then." His golden eyes glinted.
Adrienne, watching from his seat, could not tear his eyes away. Why was Elara speaking to him so leisurely? What were they saying?
Elara hesitated, unsure if it was a jest or something more. "You speak as though we've met already way before that?"
"Maybe we have," he replied, tone unreadable. "In a place beyond memory."
The music began again.
They moved, not as strangers, but as though drawn by something older than time itself.
Elara's earlier restraint melted into something freer, her steps guided by instinct rather than protocol. For the first time that night, her smile, faint, fleeting, reached her eyes.
The murmurs began, soft but sharp as daggers:
"They look breathtaking together."
"Almost as if they were meant to be."
"Poor Crown Prince Adrienne, even Aetherion's heir seems taken with her."
The words clawed at Adrienne's composure. His hand tightened around the edge of his seat, knuckles white beneath his gloves.
The Emperor and Empress of Aetherion watched as well, exchanging quiet glances.
Empress Auriel's voice was soft but knowing. "So, this is the Crown Princess of Aurelthar. The one who caught your son's attention."
The Emperor's lips curved faintly, unreadable. "Intriguing. He rarely looks at anyone twice."
Auriel smiled faintly. "Then perhaps, Solarian, fate has plans beyond diplomacy."
And on the ballroom floor, beneath the glittering chandeliers and unspoken histories, three destinies intertwined, unaware that the darkness waiting beyond the grand hall's lights was already watching, ready to strike.
Across the ballroom, the violet-haired scholar stood among the Aetherion delegates, her gaze fixed quietly on the pair.
She had introduced herself earlier as Lyssara, a scholar of a long forgottened place. She should have been observing, noting customs and exchanges of diplomacy.
Instead, her attention was caught by the crown princess's hair. The violet beneath the chandelier's glow, the same hue once said to mark all the people of the place she had lived.
Impossible.
Yet the resemblance was undeniable. The eyes, the tone of her hair, the faint aura that made the air hum faintly when she passed. Lyssara's pulse quickened.
Her hand instinctively brushed against the pendant beneath her robe. A silver crescent engraved with ancient runes.
Her thoughts whispered against her will: What is she? Who is she? Violet hair is rare. Only those of that bloodline bear it.
At the high table, Emperor Solarian glanced at Lyssara from afar. Seeing her reaction, he smiled faintly.
"I think it's time for everyone to know, don't you agree, my beloved Empress?"
Empress Auriel's lips curved in reply. "Indeed. Wasn't that the reason we brought Lyssara with us? So she might recognize the truth herself?"
As the orchestra continued its elegant rhythm, Lyssara's gaze hardened.
Whatever fate had brought Elara Veyldan into this hall tonight was no coincidence, not for her, not for Kaelion, and certainly not for those watching from the shadows.
Far beyond the polished halls and glimmering chandeliers, the western corridors lay shrouded in half-light, the air faintly scented with oil and dust.
Three figures stood in silence, hoods drawn low. Only the faint spark of a match illuminated their faces before the candle between them was lit.
"Everything's prepared," one whispered. "When the waltz ends, the lights will dim. We'll blame it on the crystal wiring, just enough confusion to move unnoticed."
"And the target?"another asked quietly.
"The Crown Princess of Aurelthar. She leaves the floor briefly with her attendants, that's our window."
A faint clink echoed as one of them set down a small vial filled with shimmering blue liquid. "The blackout will last less than a minute. Enough time to silence the guards near the terrace and extract her through the servant's passage."
The one who led them leaned forward, voice low and cold. "Ensure the Prince doesn't suspect a thing. The girl must vanish as if the darkness itself swallowed her."
"Understood," the others replied in unison.
The leader smiled faintly beneath his hood. "Good. When the lights return…"
He turned toward the faint sound of music bleeding from the ballroom above.
"…they'll realize too late that their future queen is gone."
The candlelight flickered, then died, snuffed out by a single breath.