POV: Darnova Presidential Press Secretary, inside the Media Room
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Cameras. Lights. Microphones.
The tension in the room could be sliced with a razor.
Press Secretary Jevan Roe paced beside the official podium, sweat collecting at his brow even with the A/C blasting. Behind him, the hastily crafted headline gleamed on a holographic banner:
"First Lady's Warm Welcome — A Toast Too Eager"
– President Vox Commends Blackwood Emperor's Grace
He looked back at President Darn Vox, who stood stiff in his deep green ceremonial uniform, trying not to twitch.
"Are you sure about this?" Jevan asked. "One wrong word and this becomes a diplomatic failure."
Vox didn't blink. "Stick to the script. Sell it like comedy."
A red light blinked.
LIVE.
Jevan straightened, forced a smile, and addressed the nation.
"Good evening, Darnova. Tonight, we witnessed history… and perhaps, a bit of humor."
Laughter echoed lightly from the press corps as footage played of the First Lady's accidental spill—cut just before Amara's frozen reaction.
"We're honored by the presence of Emperor Chris Blackwood and Empress Amara Blackwood, rulers of the unified empire that has stood at the helm of global stability. And while diplomacy often begins with handshakes and speeches… sometimes, it begins with wine on a white suit."
He smiled.
"But let it be known—our emperor smiled, our empress understood, and Darnova remains proud to have the Blackwoods walk among us."
Cue applause. Cue soft music. Cue millions of citizens breathing again.
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LATER THAT NIGHT — PRIVATE DARNOVA CABINET ROOM
POV: General Kez Oloren, Head of Military Intelligence
"This is bad," Kez said, tossing the remote on the table.
"Why?" asked Minister of Commerce.
He turned to them all. "Chris didn't get angry. Amara didn't even flinch. You think that means we're safe?"
"What does it mean, then?" the President asked.
"It means they've already decided what they'll do to us if we step out of line again. That wasn't forgiveness. That was a warning hidden in silk."
The room fell silent.
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MEANWHILE — OUTSIDE THE PALACE, NIGHT PARADE
POV: A Darnovan Soldier in the Honor Guard
Cheers erupted as Blackwood banners flared to life, lighting the night with purple fire and silver flames. Drones shaped like falcons carried holographic symbols of peace through the sky.
The soldier stood tall, heart pounding.
In the middle of the parade, on a royal black hover-car, Chris and Amara waved to the crowd. The spilled-wine incident already rebranded as a "lighthearted moment in global history."
Behind them, B.A.M. units rolled silently, armored, cloaked, and watching.
One soldier whispered to the man beside him:
"Tell me again we're the ones welcoming them."
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