Olivia, Sophia, and Haley declined to go to the Citadel that evening, each for her own reason. They needed time, especially to prepare everything; they can't do it instantly, they will need time to coordinate the preparations, and most importantly, to finalise their gowns for the royal ball.
"Emily will come for a fitting in three days," Sophia said, her voice calm, though her hand absently traced the rim of her teacup as if already planning the list of alterations.
"Once the dresses are ready, we can go to the Citadel," Olivia added with her usual attitude.
"The Citadel is practically next door," Sienna-Rose reasoned, brows arching as she leaned against the teleportation point's door. "you don't need—"
"Need?" Haley cut in, sitting up straight with the gravitas of a general. "You think we can just waltz in without armour? The Citadel means war with the other aristocrat ladies." Her tone is deadly serious, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.
