The distance between our White Pavilion and the Royal Pavilion was short, yet crossing it felt like walking a thousand miles.
We had changed our attire. We moved as a single, coordinated unit, dressed in pristine white to match our house colors. Father led the way with Mother on his arm. Aurelio walked a step behind them on the left, looking flawless in his white suit. I walked on the right, mirroring him.
"Shoulders back, Aurelio," Mother whispered without moving her lips. "You represent the future of this House."
"Yes, Mother," Aurelio replied instantly, straightening his spine.
The Royal Pavilion loomed ahead, a cavern of blue velvet supported by gold pillars. As the Herald saw us approach, he immediately announced our arrival.
"Presenting the House of Aurelius!"
His voice echoed off the tent walls, silencing the chatter inside.
"The Duke and Duchess of Aurelius, with their Young Lord and Young Lady!"
As we entered, eyes turned toward us from every corner.
To my right, the table for the House of Aemilia was chaotic. Laughter erupted from their section. Lady Eliana was there, loud and lively, though her eyes lingered for a moment on my father before she raised her glass to him in a silent toast.
To my left, a table draped in black leather sat completely empty. It was clearly reserved for House Valerius, yet they had not arrived. Their absence was a statement in itself.
However, near the High Table, there was another significant group.
"The Regent is here," Father murmured, a hollowness in his voice.
Sitting at a prominent table was the Regent of the Kingdom, Cato Justina. The man holding the position that should have been my father's.
Beside him sat his daughter, Lady Anna Justina.
While everyone else in the pavilion projected sharpness and power, she was… soft. She wore a gown of pale lavender that floated around her figure like mist. Her short red hair framed a face that looked perpetually innocent.
As I watched her, I saw Lady Anna glance toward the High Table. She wasn't looking at the food. She was looking at the Crown Prince.
We approached the High Table.
The King was absent. The Queen sat alone in the center, radiating authority. To her right sat the Crown Prince Fabian. He sat at the very edge of his seat, looking utterly bored, swirling the wine in his goblet. To her left sat the Second Princess and the Third Prince, both engaged in quiet conversation.
"Your Majesty," my father said. We did not bow.
"Duchess," the Queen acknowledged coolly. "We were worried the 'pristine' white of your dress might get stained by the rustic surroundings."
"The mud is an inconvenience," Mother replied smoothly. "But one endures for the sake of…" her smile was as sharp as a blade, "…Unity. Besides, white is easily cleaned if one knows the proper methods."
The air between them snapped with tension.
"Please, take a seat," the Queen said coldly. She gestured to the empty chair beside Fabian. "And for Aurelia… I think Aurelia should take a seat beside Fabian."
She smiled at my mother. "For the sake of… Unity."
My mother's smile didn't falter, yet I saw her eyes sharpen. It was a command. To refuse would be to break the fragile illusion of unity my mother had just invoked. The Queen had trapped her with her own words, using me as the pawn.
"Go, Aurelia," Mother said softly, though her voice carried a steel edge.
"Yes, Mother," I whispered, clutching my skirt.
I stepped away from my family. Lady Octavi immediately detached herself from the group and fell in behind me. Aurelio and my parents took their seats at their own table, covered in white cloth embroidered with gold thread.
Every step toward the High Table felt heavy. I could feel the gaze of the entire room on my back. Yet, Lady Octavi's solid presence gave me the courage to continue.
I reached the empty chair.
Fabian, who had been staring morosely into his wine, suddenly turned his head.
The moment he saw me, the boredom vanished. He didn't just look at me; he stared. His gaze was intense, focused, and terrifyingly attentive. However, as I met his eyes, I saw a glimmer of recognition and warmth that made my heart skip a beat.
He stood up abruptly and pulled out my chair.
"Finally," he whispered, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "I thought you would not arrive."
I sat down. "Your Highness…"
"Fabian," he corrected instantly. "I have done what you told me. The apology letter… So with that, you should call me by my own name, not an honorific again, Aurelia."
"Fabian."
I felt the name on my tongue. It felt heavy, filled with the weight of the public spectacle he had caused with that letter—and more importantly, the scandal I had caused by demanding it.
"You have indeed done as I asked," I said quietly. "Yet, we are under the watchful eyes of the entire Kingdom, especially your mother."
"Let them watch, Aurelia," Fabian said, leaning in. "Let them see that my apology was not merely ink on parchment. I want them to know where my loyalty lies."
"Loyalty is a dangerous word to speak so freely in here, Brother."
A sharp, mocking voice cut through our moment.
I leaned forward slightly to see past the Queen's imposing silhouette.
Sitting on her left, Prince Tito, the Third Prince, sat with a relaxed, arrogant air. His blonde hair was perfectly styled, yet his blue eyes held none of Fabian's warmth—only cold calculation. He was looking directly at me.
Beside him sat the Second Princess. She was a terrifying mirror image of her mother, possessing the same long hair and piercing blue eyes. She didn't speak; she simply observed me like a hawk watching a mouse.
"Tito," Fabian's voice hardened. "I did not ask for your opinion."
"And yet, here we are," Tito countered, his gaze locked onto mine. "Lady Aurelia. I trust you received my… gift? I selected it personally."
The air at the table froze. My parents, sitting nearby, went rigid. I knew they had been informed about the Tansy flower, even though they hadn't been home when it arrived.
The Tansy Flower. A declaration of war.
"It was a unique choice, Your Highness," I replied, my voice steady despite the rapid beating of my heart. "Yellow is a bright color. Though some say it clashes with white."
Tito's smile widened, predatory. "Oh, I think it provides a necessary contrast. A reminder that even in a garden of pristine white, there are always… weeds that refuse to be plucked."
"Tito," the Queen warned softly.
"I am merely making conversation, Mother," Tito replied with a shrug. "I am simply eager to see how Lady Aurelia handles the environment of the Hunt. It is far more dangerous than the Arch-Treasury. Accidents always happen so easily in the woods. Even in the camp."
Step. Step.
Suddenly, footsteps approached from behind me. They stopped right at the back of my chair.
It was Lady Octavi.
She didn't speak. She simply positioned herself directly behind me, standing like a statue carved from marble. She didn't look at me; her gaze was locked entirely on Tito.
Slowly, deliberately, her left hand moved from her side. It came to rest on the pommel of her sword.
She didn't draw it. She didn't even grip it tightly. She just rested her hand there casually.
It was a silent promise. If an 'accident' happens, I will be the one causing it.
For a long, tense moment, the only sound was the crackle of the bonfires outside.
Tito's arrogance wavered. He broke eye contact first, looking down at his plate. He had received the message.
The tension didn't vanish, but it shifted. Tito picked up his glass, taking a slow sip to mask his retreat. The Second Princess watched the exchange with renewed interest, her eyes flicking from Octavi's hand to me.
Fabian, however, didn't seem bothered. He seemed pleased by Lady Octavi's reaction. He leaned closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine.
He picked up a silver fork and speared a slice of roasted pheasant from his own plate.
"Eat, Aurelia," he urged softly. "You look pale."
He held the fork to my lips.
I hesitated. I could feel the eyes of the entire room on us. The Regent. Lady Anna. My parents.
I took the bite.
Then…
"Careful!"
A shout came from the right.
A young maid, perhaps my age, had tripped on the edge of the dais. She was holding a heavy silver pitcher of red wine.
As she stumbled, the pitcher flew from her hands.
CLANG!
It crashed onto the steps violently. Red wine splashed everywhere, dangerously close to Fabian's boots. The maid fell hard, landing in the puddle with a loud thud.
Silence crashed over the room.
"You clumsy fool!"
The Queen stood up, her fury exploding instantly. "Guards! Drag this incompetent girl out of my sight!"
"Wait!"
A soft, trembling voice cut through the Queen's shouting.
It was Lady Anna.
She had rushed forward from the Regent's table, her lavender dress swirling around her. She fell to her knees beside the crying maid, ignoring the wine staining the hem of her gown. She placed a gentle hand on the girl's shaking shoulder.
"She is bleeding, Your Majesty," Lady Anna cried out, looking up with big, watery eyes.
She looked straight at Fabian, clasping her hands together in a perfect plea.
"We cannot punish her. It was an accident. Please… show mercy."