The silence between them settled like a warm blanket, awkward, a little sweet, but slowly fading as the hall breathed around them.
Neither spoke. Neither looked up.
They just stood there, trying to pretend they hadn't nearly planned an entire future family on the spot.
Then the emperor stepped onto the highest platform.
His boots touched the marble with a quiet echo, and the entire hall straightened at once.
Even the chandeliers seemed to glow a little brighter.
When he lifted his hand, everyone stopped talking.
"Today's celebration," he said, voice steady and calm, "is held specially for my daughter, Charlotte… and the heir of the Zenithara House, Vivian D. Zenithara."
The words hit like a bell ringing through stone.
Vivian's heart jumped. Charlotte's eyes widened.
Their embarrassment vanished in a heartbeat as both looked up at the same time.
Whatever strange moment they had just shared was wiped clean by the emperor's voice.
