The ballroom of Ravenor Mansion was as grand as one would expect from one of the Underworld's five most prestigious noble families.
Power, prestige, and wealth radiated from every corner, from the towering golden chandeliers and polished marble floors to the magnificent white pillars and intricate golden arches framing large windows overlooking Tartarus's floating castles.
Crimson roses adorned the ballroom in honour of the young woman who resembled a blooming rose herself.
A grand magical clock hovered in midair, its glowing hands ticking steadily toward the precise moment Hera would turn eighteen. One by one, esteemed guests approached to greet the hosts standing beneath it.
Hera could feel every gaze dissecting her from top to bottom. While some genuinely praised the fine young woman she had grown into, others concealed their true intentions behind deceptive smiles, masking their lust, jealousy, and envy.
