Six months slipped by like pages turning in a book no one wanted to close. In one corner of the palace, Anastasia stood straight, a book balanced delicately on her head.
"Posture," the instructor repeated.
Anastasia resisted the urge to sigh.
Across from her, Drizella walked with careful steps, trying not to let her expression betray how unnatural this all felt.
At first, the Queen had arranged an entire parade of lessons-etiquette, manners, posture, speech, dining, diplomacy-everything required to shape a "perfect queen." Adrien had rejected it instantly.
"She is already perfect," he had declared, with a stubbornness that nearly caused a royal argument. "I will handle the royal matters."
But Anastasia had disagreed. Not out of pride. Out of honesty. Because she knew something no one else did. She did not belong to this world. Whatever grace she had shown so far... it wasn't knowledge. It was instinct. Borrowed from a body that remembered things her mind did not. So she insisted.
"I need to learn," she had said. And she did. Reluctantly at first. Gracefully, eventually.
Days turned into weeks, and something interesting happened- Drizella joined her.
"If I am to become a renowned poet," she had declared dramatically, "I refuse to embarrass myself in front of important people."
Anastasia had laughed. And so, the two sisters trained together. Balancing books. Practicing curtsies. Learning which fork to use and when to speak and when to simply smile. Some days ended in frustration. Some in laughter. But slowly... they changed. Not into someone else. But into stronger versions of themselves.
Meanwhile-
Cinderella lived in an entirely different world. One filled with numbers, fabrics, negotiations, and endless decisions. With Roselin by her side, she handled accounts, suppliers, and production with quiet determination.
Where Anastasia learned grace, Cinderella built stability.
Where Drizella refined expression, Roselin ensured precision.
Six months. And everything they had dreamed... stood ready. The shop had been secured. A perfect location. Not hidden. Not modest. Visible. Confident.
With help from Adrien and Rowan, it stood in a place where eyes would notice-and remember.
Inside, racks stood filled. Gowns. Carefully arranged. Each one carrying a story stitched into it. Mr. Harwin stood proudly before them.
"These are our pieces," he said.

One by one, the gowns were presented.
Classic designs, reborn with refinement.
New designs, carrying subtle innovations. And among them, Quietly- Possibility.
Anastasia walked slowly along the line.
Her fingers brushed fabrics. Her eyes caught details others might miss. Stitching. Balance. Finish.
"Good," she said softly. Then louder- "Approved."
A collective breath released. They had crossed the first mountain.
"Then," Mr. Harwin said, "we move to the next step. Selecting the day for the grand opening."
Excitement flickered again. But before it could settle- He hesitated.
"There is... one more matter."
Anastasia looked at him.
"The six pieces," he said. "The split gowns you requested." A pause. "What shall we do with them?"
The room stilled. Even now, those designs felt... dangerous. Different. Uncertain. All eyes turned to Anastasia. She didn't hesitate.
"Do nothing," she said calmly. Confusion spread instantly.
"...Nothing?" Roselin asked.
Anastasia smiled. "Not yet." She stepped closer, her eyes carrying that familiar spark of strategy. "We will not sell them immediately," she continued. "We will introduce them first."
Drizella raised a brow. "Introduce... how?"
Anastasia's smile deepened slightly.
"We create desire before availability."
Silence. Intrigue. "I have a plan," she said simply. No details. No explanation. Just certainty.
The others exchanged glances. Confused. Curious. But trusting. Because by now, they had learned- When Anastasia smiled like that... Something unexpected was about to happen.
The palace hummed with quiet curiosity that afternoon. Anastasia had arranged a private gathering-small, selective, deliberate. Only six invitations had been sent, each carried with care. Before the guests arrived, she turned to Mr. Harwin and Roselin.
"Keep the split gowns ready," she instructed. "Bring them only when I ask."
Both nodded, though the mystery of her plan still lingered in their eyes.
Then-
They arrived. One by one. Graceful. Curious. Familiar. The five former candidates of the marriage trial stepped into the chamber, their presence carrying elegance without rivalry. And with them came Selena-Rowan's sister-bright-eyed and observant.
Each was guided by a maid to the seating area where Anastasia, Cinderella, and Drizella waited. Soft greetings were exchanged. Silk brushed against polished floors as they took their seats.
A moment passed.
Then Selena leaned slightly forward, a playful curiosity in her gaze. "So," she said, "to what do we owe this rather secretive invitation?"
A few of the others nodded in agreement, interest flickering across their expressions. Anastasia stepped ahead.
Her posture was calm, but her voice carried sincerity.
"Before anything else," she began, "I owe an apology to the five respectful ladies."
The room quieted. "For what happened during the trial," she continued. "Because of me... and Adrien."
A pause. Recognition dawned. The candidates exchanged glances.
"You..." one of them murmured softly.
Another smiled faintly. "So you are the one." Not with bitterness. But understanding.
Anastasia held their gaze. "Yes."
Silence lingered for a heartbeat-then softened. Drizella stepped in, her tone lighter.
"Well," she said, crossing her arms with a small smirk, "we didn't call you here just to apologize." Curiosity returned. "We have something for you," she added.
Cinderella smiled gently beside her.
"A gift," Drizella continued, glancing at Selena, "for all of you... and especially for our my sister-in-law here."
Selena blinked, then grinned. "Now that sounds interesting."
The air shifted. From past to present.
From apology... to anticipation. The room settled into a quiet circle of attention as Anastasia stepped forward, her voice calm yet filled with purpose.
"We have been working," she began, "to reopen our father's business."
A soft murmur of surprise passed through the guests. Cinderella continued, her tone steady but warm. She explained their journey-how they gathered old employees, rebuilt from what remained, and created designs that balanced tradition with something new.
"We focused on quality first," she said. "Not quantity. Each piece carries intention."
The candidates listened closely, their earlier curiosity now turning into genuine interest. Drizella then stepped in, a small spark of excitement in her eyes.
"But today," she said, "you are not here just to hear about it." She paused deliberately. "You are here for something special."
Confusion flickered across all six faces.
Anastasia clapped once. The doors opened. Roselin entered carefully, followed by attendants carrying six gowns. Not ordinary gowns. The split skirts. They were elegant-flowing fabrics, graceful silhouettes-but something about them felt... different. Subtle. Hidden.
Anastasia stepped beside them.
"This," she said, "is our newest design."
She walked slowly around them, her fingers brushing the fabric lightly. "From the outside, it appears like any other gown. Elegant. Refined." She paused, then added- "But it is not."
The women leaned in slightly.
"It is divided," Anastasia explained. "Two sections. One for each leg. It allows movement-freedom-without sacrificing grace."
A moment of silence followed. They were intrigued. One of the candidates stepped closer, examining the structure.
"It's... unusual," she admitted.
"But practical," another added thoughtfully.
Selena tilted her head, clearly impressed. "You are hiding comfort inside elegance."
Anastasia smiled faintly. "Exactly."
Then came the question. "What do you expect from us?" All eyes returned to her.
"Wear them," Anastasia said simply. A pause. "During gatherings. Events. Moments where movement matters-hosting, walking, managing... being present everywhere at once." Her gaze softened. "Show that elegance does not need restriction."
The idea hung in the air. Bold. Tempting.
But unfamiliar. The hesitation was natural. What if people questioned it? What if it was noticed? What if it wasn't accepted? Then-
"I will do it."
All heads turned. Selena. She leaned back slightly, a confident smile forming.
"I am hosting a gathering soon," she said. "I will wear it there."
That single decision shifted everything.
One by one, the others began to nod.
"If she can, so can we."
"It might actually be useful..."
"And interesting."
Slowly, agreement replaced hesitation.
Anastasia's plan had begun. What followed was no longer business. It was warmth. Conversation flowed freely. Laughter returned. Stories were shared-not as rivals, but as women standing on equal ground.
By the time they left, something had changed. Not just for the business. But for all of them.
That night, the workshop was quiet again. Anastasia, Cinderella, Drizella, Roselin, and Mr. Harwin sat together around the table. No noise. Just purpose.
"The opening," Mr. Harwin said. "We must decide the day."
Cinderella looked at the ledger. "We need enough time for word to spread... but not too long."
Roselin added, "And preparation for display."
Drizella leaned back. "And something memorable."
All eyes turned to Anastasia. She rested her chin lightly on her hand, thinking.
Then smiled.
"Let's not just open a shop," she said.
"Let's make an entrance."
And just like that- The final step began.
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