Chapter 8: Crashers at the Palace

The Great Starlight Ballroom of the Imperial Sun Palace was a masterpiece of royal opulence. Hundreds of crystal chandeliers hung from vaulted ceilings painted with celestial constellations, casting shimmering light across two thousand assembled aristocrats, high generals, and guildmasters.

Near the central red carpet leading to the vacant thrones, Lord Julian Vance stood arrogantly, holding a glass of vintage imperial wine. Beside him, Lady Victoria wore her finest ruby tiara, and Baroness Chloe flirted coyly with passing dukes.

“I hear Princess Aurelia was raised in secret away from the capital,” Julian boasted loudly to a circle of attentive minor lords. “She must be naive, unaccustomed to court intrigue. A strong, capable nobleman like myself is exactly what she will need to guide her.”

Baroness Chloe giggled, fanning herself. “Indeed. It’s a pity that commoner girl Aria isn’t here to see real royalty! She thought breaking Julian’s engagement made her special, but tonight Julian will dance with the future Queen of Eldoria!”

Lady Victoria smirked. “That pathetic girl is probably crying in some muddy alley right now, begging for bread. She got what she deserved for disrespecting House Vance.”

High Duke Sterling, who stood nearby with his recovered son, overheard their venomous banter. He turned his eyes toward Julian with a look of cold, predatory contempt, but said nothing, waiting for the trap to spring.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The heavy golden doors at the far end of the ballroom opened wide.

“His Imperial Majesty, King Arthur! Her Imperial Majesty, Queen Eleanor! And Her Royal Highness, Princess Aurelia!” the Grand Marshal announced, his voice reverberating off the marble pillars.

A hundred trumpets blared a triumphant royal fanfare.

Every noble in the room immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads low toward the red carpet. Julian, Lady Victoria, and Chloe bowed lower than anyone, their hearts pounding with avaricious excitement.

Heavy, measured footsteps echoed down the dais.

“Rise, my subjects,” King Arthur’s booming, authoritative voice echoed through the hall.

Julian rose eagerly, straightening his collar and putting on his most charming, handsome smile as he turned his gaze toward the throne.

Beside King Arthur and Queen Eleanor—who were clad in majestic imperial armor and gowns of celestial silk—stood Princess Aurelia.

She wore a breathtaking gown woven from starlight silver and royal violet thread. A delicate crown of glowing white gold rested upon her dark hair, and her golden eyes held an unshakeable, sovereign radiance.

Julian’s jaw dropped. The wine glass in his hand slipped from his fingers, shattering loudly against the marble floor.

“A… Aria?!” Lady Victoria shrieked, her face turning instantly as white as a sheet.

Baroness Chloe gasped so violently she choked on her own breath, staggering back into the arms of a startled guard. “N-No… it can’t be… That commoner healer… is the Crown Princess?!”

Standing on the high royal dais, Princess Aurelia looked down at the pale, trembling faces of House Vance. Her eyes held no anger, only the vast, cold majesty of an imperial ruler.

Beside her, King Arthur looked down at Julian, his hand resting on the pommel of his golden broadsword, his eyes burning with absolute retribution.