Chapter 56
Lucina
Finally, the joint masterpiece is complete.
I hate how heavy it is. But I can't deny the look of awe on the boys' faces when they see the finished look.
With Haroun's steady arm supporting me, we begin the long trek toward the hall. The palace is stunning tonight. The magnificent decor and crystal pillars shimmer in the light, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. Even more than usual.
It's truly beautiful. Like a place out of a fairytale.
As much as I love that my part of the palace is so far from the rest—on nights like this, the distance is exhausting.
Especially when I'm wearing a full set of armor.
Every step feels like a chore. The heavy fabric of my dress makes the journey even more arduous. Each stride causes the intricate beadwork to shimmer.
A beautiful but exhausting sight.
Just when I'm sure it's time for my death, we finally arrive.
I let Haroun go, watching him head off to join the other security personnel.
I walk into a drawing room.
The room is quiet. A stark contrast to the bustling hall outside.
I glance around, taking in the plush furnishings and the soft glow of candlelight. A small haven of peace before the storm of the evening's events.
I smooth down my dress, feeling the reassuring weight of the necklace around my neck. The crystals glint softly, matching perfectly with the royal blue of my gown.
I catch a glimpse of myself in a nearby mirror and marvel at the transformation.
Despite the discomfort, I have to admit—I look every bit the princess.
Looks and attire.
Inside, I find Prince Artem, the second prince, standing near a bookshelf.
It's easy to forget he exists. He spends most of his time secluded in the mage tower. Seeing him here is a rare sight.
"Brother."
I acknowledge him, surprise coloring my voice.
He merely nods in response. His expression is weary.
At twenty-five, he looks much older than his years. Though he has inherited the royal family's good looks, his curly brown hair is thinning. His handsome features are overshadowed by a lack of confidence and an exhausted demeanor.
I move to a nearby sofa and sit down, observing him closely.
Sadness lingers in his gaze. Resignation fills his sad brown eyes.
Soon, Linus strides into the room.
Any presence Artem had begun to muster vanishes entirely.
Linus commands attention effortlessly. Dressed in regal blue attire, his white hair and piercing grey eyes could easily have him mistaken for an angel descended from the heavens.
He scans the room.
When his cold grey eyes meet mine, I refuse to look away.
We lock gazes. A silent battle of wills.
He finally breaks the stare and moves to take a seat, completely disregarding Artem's presence.
How unfortunate for our brother.
Perhaps Concubine Nessa's strict and extensive high hopes for Artem led him to become a ghost of a human being.
It's sad, really.
I muse to myself. But it's honestly none of my business.
I tear my gaze away from Artem's unfortunate presence.
I turn my attention to the rest of the room. My thoughts drift away from my brothers' contrasting fates.
The grandeur of the drawing room—intricate tapestries, opulent furnishings—provides a welcome distraction.
The weight of my gown, though cumbersome, is a reminder of the expectations placed upon us all.
Linus, now seated, exudes authority. He has no intention of engaging in idle chatter. His focus is unwavering. His demeanor as cold and unyielding as ever.
Artem, meanwhile, seems to shrink further into himself. His eyes cast downward, seeking solace in the patterns of the carpet.
A few minutes later, the twins walk in.
They are dressed in matching sky-blue attire.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.
They're nineteen, for the love of the moon. Still dressing like children.
I send a couple of stiff nods their way, acknowledging their presence.
All the children are here now. Well, not all. Rose is either on her way to her fiancé in a foreign country or already married.
I can't remember.
Nor do I particularly care.
Soon, an attendant rushes in, signaling the arrival of the Emperor and Empress.
We all rise from our seats.
As they enter the room, we bow deeply.
The Emperor does not acknowledge me.
The feeling is mutual.
Stella catches my eye and gives me a smug look. Basking in the approval of our father.
I return her gaze with calm indifference.
She can have Daddy Dearest for all I care.
I have no interest in seeking validation from that man.
*
I hold Artem's hand.
His fingers are slender.
We wait for the announcer.
Stella leans gracefully against Luan—a picture of such beautiful sibling closeness.
Artem's grip isn't as reassuring as I'd hoped. But given the choice between him and Linus?
Artem it is.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests. Please rise for the entrance of the Solana Empire's sovereigns."
The announcer's voice booms.
"Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Grace Solana. Embodying elegance and wisdom."
"His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Luke Solana. The esteemed ruler of our realm."
"And now, let us extend our respects to their noble children. The distinguished princes and princesses of the Solana lineage."