In the ballroom of the Thomas manor, standing straight, was Daphne.
Lady Elizabeth, her face a portrait of elegant concentration, walked slowly around her daughter.
"A noblewoman's posture is a silent language, Daphne. It speaks of confidence, of grace, and of an inner strength that is unwavering. Every head turn, every step, every breath must be a deliberate act."
Daphne held her chin high, her shoulders back, and her stomach pulled in. She had been at this for an hour, and her muscles were beginning to tremble with the strain.
"Mother," Daphne said. "There is nothing wrong with my posture. We've have been practicing for two weeks straight."
Her mother's eyes missed nothing.
"Perfection is not a state to be achieved, but a continuous journey. It's for the competition, my love." Lady Elizabeth stated, her tone firm but gentle.
With a soft sigh, Lady Elizabeth walked to a nearby table and retrieved a ceramic bottle, its clear surface gleaming in the light.
She returned to Daphne, and placed the bottle on its side on the ground.
"A simple task," she said. "Stand on this without shaking. It will teach you balance, control, and poise."
Daphne's breath hitched.
She had been trained in martial art and was capable of incredible feats of strength and agility. But this… this was a different kind of challenge.
She carefully placed one foot on the bottle, her body swaying as she tried to find her balance.
The glass felt impossibly small and unsteady under her foot.
She closed her eyes, shutting out the world.
She drew on the memories of her martial arts training, of standing in a low horse stance for hours, of holding her bow in a perfect, unmoving line before an arrow was released.
She focused on her core, on the small muscles in her back and legs, and willed herself into perfect stillness.
The bottle wobbled, but it did not fall. A bead of sweat traced a path down her temple, but she remained motionless.
Her mother watched, a proud smile touching her lips.
"Good," Lady Elizabeth said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "Very good, my child. A battle is not fought with swords alone. It is won in the silent moments, with unshakeable resolve. Remember that."
Just then, the grand ballroom doors creaked open, and Emma walked in, her arms crossed and a sarcastic smile on her face.
Her light demeanor immediately broke the tense atmosphere of the room.
"Mother," Emma said, her voice teasing, "if you push our poor Daphne any further, she'll turn to stone. You do remember the wedding is tomorrow, right? She needs her rest."
Lady Elizabeth lowered her gaze, her expression softening completely.
"My dear. We are simply ensuring she is prepared for all of the competition's challenges."
Emma stepped closer to Daphne. "I just think a break is in order. Besides, she needs to get ready for dinner. My husband informs me that there is to be a special guest tonight."
"She will have her break when the competition is over," Lady Elizabeth then looked at Daphne, her eyes filled with a caring, maternal warmth.
"Go, change into the gown I've laid out for you. I was very thorough in my choices for you, so it's one of the few I'm certain you will pass the test of elegance in."
Daphne's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Who is the guest?" Daphne asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Lady Elizabeth's expression shifted to a pleased, hospitable smile. "Early this morning, we received a message from Prince Alaric. He has accepted your father's invitation to join us for dinner. He will be here tonight."
Daphne felt a wave of heat rush to her cheeks, a blush she was powerless to stop.
She tried to maintain her placid expression, but inside, a flutter of butterflies erupted in her belly.
The memory of the card he had sent, his bold declaration to marry her, flashed through her mind.
The message had been a promise, and soon, he was going to be here.
The training session had prepared her for composure, for poise, for unshakeable strength. But it had not prepared her for this.
Sitting across from the man who was both her past and her future felt like the most terrifying, and exhilarating, battle of all.
...
A short while later, Daphne stood in the family parlor, feeling both a sense of dread and an undeniable thrill.
Her mother had dressed her in an elegant emerald gown that drapped her figure perfectly.
The clock ticked the seconds away, each one a hammer against her nerves.
Finally, the butler's voice announced their guests. "His Highness, Prince Alaric, is here!"
Aidan entered first, a relaxed smile on his face. He nodded to his family, his eyes lingering on Daphne for a moment.
Then, Daphne's parents, Lord Thomas and Lady Elizabeth, went forward to greet the Prince.
Alaric entered, still in his military uniform, a clear sign that he had come straight from his duties and had not had a moment to spare.
The dark fabric and polished silver buttons were a stark contrast to the comfortable, civilian elegance of the parlor.
His long coat and high collar only served to emphasize his broad shoulders and commanding height.
He looked devastatingly handsome, and Daphne's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
He greeted her parents with a respectful nod, his voice calm as he replied to their welcomes.
He then turned to Daphne, a flicker of something in his eyes that only she would understand.
"Lady Daphne," he said, his voice, impossibly soft.
"Your Highness," she replied, her voice shaking a little.
As he moved closer, Daphne caught his scent. It was earthy and warm, a mixture of sandalwood, musk, and citrus, with smoky notes that left an impression of depth and strength.
The scent was a perfect reflection of the man himself, a blend of power and refined masculinity.
He came to a stop beside the dinner table, and to Daphne's utter astonishment, he took the seat right beside her, the chair that was reserved for her brother, Finn.
The rest of the family didn't think much of it.
Lady Elizabeth, ever the perfect hostess, smoothly went into good host mode, gesturing to the other chairs and inviting everyone to sit.
Aidan, however, settled into his own chair across from them, a secret smile playing on his lips.
Daphne felt utterly astounded.
This simple act was a statement to her, a silent claim he was making in front of her entire family.
As they were all seated, Alaric turned to Lord Thomas. "Thank you for inviting me, Your Grace," he said, his voice as calm and steady as a deep river.
"The gratitude is all ours, Your Highness," he replied, his expression earnest. "After the events some days ago, it is we who owe you a great debt for protecting my daughter."
Alaric's gaze shifted to Daphne for a brief moment, a fleeting flash of intensity in his eyes.
His next words were simple, yet they resonated with a weight that went beyond their surface meaning.
"It is my duty."
The statement was short and formal, a response that any Prince would give. But to Daphne, it was not just a duty to his station.
It was a personal promise. It was a vow.
Lord Thomas nodded, his mind apparently satisfied with the answer.
"Still, it is a great comfort to know that someone of your abilities has taken an interest in the competition's security. It's a dangerous world out there, as we saw yesterday."
"Indeed," Alaric replied, "Lady Daphne's safety is of the utmost importance."
Aidan, who had been watching the exchange with a secret smile, leaned forward slightly.
"Prince Alaric, how are the new security measures coming along? I trust my sister will be in good hands."
Alaric's gaze returned to Aidan. "The measures are in place, Lord Aidan. I can assure you, she will be well protected."
Lady Elizabeth, sensing the conversation's intensity, gracefully shifted the topic.
"Speaking of tomorrow, we are all looking forward to Finn and Lianna's wedding. It will be a wonderful celebration. We would be honored if you would join us."
Alaric's response was polite.
"That is a great honor, Lady Elizabeth, and I thank you for the invitation. However, my schedule is quite demanding. I'm afraid I won't be able to attend."
He then turned his attention to the Duke once more.
"About the upcoming competition, I understand Lady Daphne has been preparing diligently. How are the preparations coming along?"
Her Father's face lit up with fatherly pride.
"She has been working tirelessly, Your Highness. She has surpassed every expectation we had. Her tutors are all of the opinion that she has a very strong chance of winning this competition."
"Winning is not enough," Alaric said, his gaze returning to Daphne, his tone quiet but firm. "Passing the test of elegance is not enough. You must win, Lady Daphne. The rest will fall in place. I have no doubt that she will, of course," he added.
He then looked back at her parents.
"However, if Lady Daphne finds she needs any assistance, anything at all, she shouldn't hesitate to ask."
The offer was delivered with such directness that it left no room for interpretation.
It was not a casual pleasantry; it was a promise of his full resources.
The entire family, save for for Aidan, was momentarily stunned into silence by the Prince's bold offer.