Elowen's POV:
The doors opened just before the candles burned low.
A court attendant stepped into the parlor, parchment in hand, his expression carefully neutral. The room fell silent at once. Every conversation stilled. Every breath seemed to wait.
This was it.
The council had decided.
My fingers rested lightly against the arm of the chair, still and composed, though my pulse beat steadily beneath the calm.
The attendant bowed.
"Ladies of the Royal Selection," he announced. "The council has concluded its deliberations for the Second Trial: Sovereignty in Action."
A faint rustle of fabric moved through the room as backs straightened and shoulders lifted.
"The rankings will now be announced. The order will determine the sequence of private meetings with His Highness tomorrow."
Lady Arabella's chin rose slightly.
She looked almost serene.
The attendant began reading.
"The highest commendation of the council—Lady Arabella Virec."
No one in the room appeared surprised.
A quiet murmur rippled through the gathered ladies. Lady Arabella inclined her head gracefully, accepting the recognition as if it had always belonged to her.
It had been elegant.
Balanced.
And, as I had overheard in the corridor, carefully refined with the prince's personal attention.
The attendant continued.
Names followed.
Some expected.
Some less so.
I listened without outward reaction as each woman was placed into the hierarchy of ambition and strategy.
When my name came, it arrived without ceremony.
"Lady Elowen Evermere."
Ah! My name was announced Last!
The list ended.
Selene's name was not first or last.
Somewhere in the middle.
A neutral position.
An acceptable one.
The attendant rolled the parchment closed.
"Tomorrow morning, beginning at first light, His Highness will receive each candidate privately. You will be summoned in the order announced tonight."
He bowed once more.
"Rest well, ladies."
Then he left.
The parlor slowly filled again with quiet conversation and restrained reactions.
Arabella was immediately surrounded by several candidates offering congratulations. She accepted them with polished grace, her confidence unshaken.
Hailey approached me first.
"Well," she murmured, crossing her arms lightly. "You survived the prince's disapproval."
I lifted a brow.
"Did I?"
"You did not collapse into disgrace," she said dryly. "That counts as success in this court."
Selene joined us moments later.
Her eyes were bright with nervous energy.
"I cannot believe we meet him tomorrow," she whispered.
Hailey smirked. "You met him already, remember?"
Selene flushed slightly.
"That was different."
My gaze drifted briefly toward the tall windows. Darkness had fully settled over the palace grounds.
Tomorrow.
Another private encounter.
My stomach tightened faintly.
"I should prepare," Selene said after a moment.
Hailey nodded.
"Rest," she advised. "Overthinking will not charm a prince."
Selene laughed nervously.
The gathering gradually dispersed soon after. Servants guided us back toward our respective wings of the palace.
The corridors were quieter now.
The palace seemed to hold its breath between trials.
I retired early.
But sleep did not come quickly.
Next Day:
Morning arrived pale and cool.
A servant announced the first summons shortly after sunrise.
"Lady Arabella Virec."
She left the parlor with calm confidence, skirts whispering softly across the marble floor.
The rest of us waited.
Time stretched strangely in that room.
Each meeting lasted perhaps twenty minutes.
Perhaps longer.
Lady Arabella returned first.
Her composure remained immaculate.
But something in her expression had softened—almost satisfied.
Hailey leaned toward me slightly.
"Well," she murmured, "that looks promising."
Lady Arabella did not elaborate.
She merely took her seat once more, folding her hands calmly.
The next candidate was summoned.
And the next.
Morning progressed slowly.
Eventually, Selene's name was called.
Her hands tightened briefly in her lap.
"Elowen," she whispered, leaning toward me. "What should I say?"
I studied her carefully.
Selene had always been earnest.
Thoughtful.
Capable.
"You should say exactly what you believe," I told her.
"That seems dangerous."
"It is," I agreed. "But he notices honesty."
She hesitated.
"And if he challenges me?"
"He will," I said simply.
Selene exhaled slowly.
Then she stood.
"Very well," she murmured.
And followed the attendant from the room.
Hailey watched her go.
"She adores him already," she said.
I said nothing.
Selene returned nearly half an hour later.
Her cheeks were flushed.
Her eyes practically shone.
Hailey raised a brow.
"Well?"
Selene sat quickly beside us.
"He asked about my taxation model again," she said breathlessly. "But differently this time."
"Differently how?" Hailey asked.
"He challenged the long-term sustainability," Selene explained. "Said it might weaken royal authority if guilds gained too much influence."
I listened quietly.
"What did you say?" I asked.
Selene brightened.
"I told him influence was not the same as power. That cooperation created loyalty."
Hailey nodded approvingly.
"And?"
Selene pressed her hands to her cheeks.
"He smiled."
Hailey laughed softly.
Selene continued, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
"And when I finished, he said—"
She straightened slightly, imitating the prince's calm tone.
"'You govern through reassurance. That is rarer than force.'"
Selene looked positively radiant.
My gaze lowered briefly.
That sounded exactly like something he would say.
Just enough praise to linger in memory.
The day stretched on.
More names were called.
More women left and returned.
Some emerged thoughtful.
Some nervous.
Some pleased.
By mid-afternoon, the room had grown quieter.
Only a few of us remained.
Hailey's turn came before sunset.
She winked at us before leaving.
"I will charm him with diplomacy," she said.
She returned twenty minutes later looking amused.
"He is infuriating," she announced.
Selene blinked. "Why?"
"He listens too well," Hailey replied. "And he notices every evasion."
That sounded familiar.
Eventually, the parlor began to empty.
One by one, the remaining candidates were summoned.
Then dismissed.
The light beyond the tall windows shifted toward evening.
Golden.
Soft.
I remained seated.
Waiting.
My name had been last.
Deliberately, perhaps.
Selene lingered beside me until the attendant returned once more.
"Lady Elowen Evermere."
Finally.
I stood slowly.
Selene squeezed my hand.
"Good luck."
Hailey leaned back in her chair, watching curiously.
"Try not to start a war," she said.
I almost smiled.
The servant leads me down a quieter corridor than the others used earlier.
At first, I assume we are simply taking a longer route to the same parlor.
But the marble floors give way to polished stone, and the tall palace windows begin revealing the gardens instead of the inner courtyards.
"This isn't the parlor," I say.
"No, my lady," the servant replies calmly.
We step outside.
Evening air greets us, cool and faintly scented with blooming jasmine. Lanterns have already been lit along the winding garden paths, their soft golden light flickering against trimmed hedges and quiet fountains.
At the far end of the garden stands a structure made entirely of glass.
The royal glass house stood nestled among climbing ivy and pale marble statues. Inside, warm lantern light illuminated rows of exotic plants and delicate white blossoms.
The attendant stopped beside the door.
"His Highness awaits you inside."
My pulse shifted.
Not the parlor.
Not a formal chamber.
The glass house.
For a moment, I simply stand there.
I smooth my hands down the front of my dress without thinking.
The gown is pale blue silk, simple compared to the elaborate creations some of the other ladies wore today. Selene insisted it suited me better than the brighter colors.
I tug lightly at one sleeve, straightening a crease that probably no one else would notice.
Then my fingers drift to my hair, adjusting the loose strands that have escaped the pins during the long day.
I pause.
What am I doing?
A quiet breath leaves me.
Why am I even bothering to fix my appearance when I have no intention of impressing him?
If anything, I should walk in exactly as I am and end this conversation as quickly as possible.
Yet my hands smooth my skirts once more anyway.
Old habits, perhaps.
I lift my gaze toward the glass house again.
Up close, it is even larger than it looked from a distance. Tall iron frames hold the glass panes together, arching overhead into a high curved ceiling. Lanterns glow softly inside, illuminating rows of exotic plants and climbing vines that curl around the metal beams.
Warm light spills through the glass walls and onto the garden path, making the entire structure glow like a lantern in the darkening garden.
For a moment it almost feels like stepping into another world.
I take a slow breath.
I pushed the door open.
Warm air and the scent of jasmine spilled outward.
Inside, lanterns glowed softly among towering green leaves and winding vines.
For a moment, I saw no one.
Then I stepped fully inside.
The door closed behind me with a quiet click.