The soft flicker of candlelight in the spacious tea room did little to warm the atmosphere. Inside, Ginia sat rigidly in her chair, her hands folded tightly over her silk-clad knees. Her gaze, sharp and calculating, swept over her daughters—Lydia, Helena, and Hermia—who each fidgeted slightly in their seats, a mix of excitement and nervousness crackling in the air.
The fastest wedding in Nacrifa's history was approaching, and every detail had been meticulously planned by Sebastian—or at least the parts that affected him. But for Ginia and her daughters, the imminent union was a dagger aimed directly at their pride, their plans, and their influence. It was a challenge they could not ignore.
"You all understand the stakes, yes?" Ginia began, her voice low but dripping with venom. "Once that girl—Aliena, that… that commoner—steps into that palace as the Crown Princess, our positions, our reputation… everything we've built is at risk."
