"Excuse me, Princess Charlotte, you aren't going to wear that dress out," a deep, commanding voice cut through the dressing room.
Charlotte spun around, eyes wide, her cheeks flushing. "Brother!! I can wear anything I want!" she shouted, crossing her arms.
Julius, tall and silver-haired, with the kind of piercing gaze that could freeze a storm, raised an eyebrow. "You are a princess, Charlotte. There are standards… traditions… expectations."
"I hate standards!" Charlotte stomped her foot. "I don't want to be like Imelda, she just likes a doll, trying hard to look perfect!"
Julius let out a m frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Your older sister Imelda never complains because she understands her position. You… sometimes forget what it means to be the youngest daughter of our family ."
Charlotte grunted. "Being a princess in Floral sounds glamorous, sure. But I don't want to be proper, I want to be me! and you!" she chuckled. "When last did you wear your royal attire? don't think I don't know "
"You want me to wear my attire to court?" he raised a brow. " And, 'Me' doesn't make an impression at a gala, Charlotte," he added, stepping closer, his tone softening. "People judge a princess by her appearance and her… dignity."
Charlotte narrowed her eyes, but was replaced with a smirk "So you want me to be boring and stiff, like Imelda?"
Julius took a deep breath. "I want you to survive the court, not to embarrass yourself."
"I'll survive just fine without looking like a frozen statue!" she shot back.
Julius paused and studied his little sister, the fire in her eyes, the stubbornness in her blood was something else. "You have just one hour to change into something suitable," he finally said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "One hour. Then we leave for the gala."
Charlotte rolled her eyes, dramatically flopping back onto the lounge. "Fine. But only because I'm in a good mood today."
Charlotte flounced down the grand staircase, stomping her feet on purpose to annoy everyone. She passed by a long mirror — and there she saw Imelda, standing perfectly, every strand of hair in place, every fold of her gown immaculate. She looked like a real-life porcelain princess.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. "Wow… must be exhausting being a human statue," she muttered under her breath, loud enough for the nearest maid to snort and hide a laugh behind her gloved hand.
Julius, trailing behind her, shook his head helplessly. "Our parents are already there. Let's go." His voice was calm, but Charlotte knew him well enough — he'd rather be buried under a mountain of legal cases than visit them, yet he came home for the gala.
The royal gala in New York was once in a million — a gathering of the world's elite — and missing it was not an option.
As they arrived at the glittering ballroom, countless reporters and flashing cameras rushed toward them. The crowd parted for the royal family, yet their lenses seemed trained on Charlotte and her silver-haired brother.
Without missing a moment, Charlotte hooked her arm through Julius's, standing taller and tilted her chin just enough to catch the light perfectly.
Click, click, click… the cameras adored her. She grinned, loving every second. Charlotte had an almost unnatural gift for photos — every smile, every pose was always perfect.
Imelda, on the other hand, let out a barely audible hiss through her teeth as her corset threatened to suffocate her. She forced a smile, lifted her gloved hand, and waved politely. Not a single reporter dared comment on how uncomfortable she looked. Julius' bodyguards quickly came closer, forming a protective way for them. Every eye followed, every camera snapped, yet Charlotte walked with effortless elegance, as if she were born for the spotlight.
Behind her, Imelda silently prayed for the photos to end. Charlotte, on the other hand, was already imagining which photographers she'd charm next.
Julius kept a steady hand on her elbow, preventing her from taking endless pictures.
And so, with flashing lights, hushed whispers about Charlotte who just finished studying abroad, and the hum of the celebrities signing autographs for their fans around them, the royal siblings entered the grand ballroom… Charlotte represented the lively storm, and Julius took the role of her calm silver-haired anchor.
Charlotte scanned the glittering ballroom as soon as they entered, her eyes darting across the crowd. "Bro, where is your friend? I should thank him for sending his men to protect me from the terrorist," she asked, her voice just loud enough to turn a few heads.
Julius rolled his eyes and scoffed. "I asked him to. I don't know why you went out alone last night!" Then he checked his wristwatch. "He should be here."
"Not even night yet! I just wanted to experience the night market! Then I went with my friend!!" Charlotte said, glancing at the crowd with excitement and impatience. "I wish to know him , he must be a very nice person."
Julius sighed and didn't bother answering. His focus was elsewhere, he was in the middle of handling a serious case involving a well-known businessman and his wife. It was something serious enough that the wife needed to be arrested.
"Ahhh, I've been looking for you… why are you late?" a woman dressed in royal Queen attire said as she moved toward them.
Julius and Imelda quickly pointed at Charlotte. "Her…"
The Queen sighed helplessly and looked at her dress in disapproval. "What are you wearing, darling?"
"Took me a lot of effort to get her changed into that," Julius chuckled.
"Where is your crown?" the Queen looked at her head in surprise.
"Mom…" Charlotte quickly grabbed her hand. "Please don't shout. I find carrying those metallic stones on my head annoying and..."
"Is this… your princess who just came from abroad, Your Highness?" a man in royal attire asked, with his elegantly dressed wife beside him.
As if he understood the meaning behind the way the man looked at her, Julius replied curtly, "Yes," and pulled Charlotte close to his side.
The man's eyes lingered on Imelda first. "Ah… exquisite! Truly, the image of the Smith family is perfection. Your eldest daughter is… remarkable your highness."
"Thank you, sir," Imelda revealed a perfectly timed smile.
Then the man glanced at Charlotte. His brow raised, and his wife chuckled softly. "And the younger one… well, she's rather energetic," she said. "Finished her university education abroad… perhaps not quite qualified to be a proper princess."
Charlotte froze. She slowly pulled away from her mother. She had been hearing that ever since she came back home a month ago. She didn't pay attention before.... but hearing it now made her feel… something.
Imelda glanced at the couple and frowned. "Then I guess your son isn't qualified to be my husband," she sneered.
Since Imelda handled the situation so well, Julius nodded in agreement and excused himself, he had just spotted the businessman's wife.
"Ahhh…" the couple panicked. "We were trying to say...."
"My husband meant... "
"The fact that you said it to my daughter," the Queen said coldly, "is disrespectful."
The couple quickly apologised to the queen and Charlotte.
"It's fine," Charlotte forced a smile. "I… I should excuse myself," she murmured, stepping back hurriedly, her usual spark dimmed for just a moment.
She dashed through the hallway with tears on her face. "Who told them I want to be a princess?! Humph! I'm submitting my CV to my dream company next week!!"
Then she stopped the moment she saw a dirty tin-white cat eating the carrot it stole. "Ahh, whose cat is this?" she gasped. "So beautiful!! Hi kitty! Come, come to your new mama!!"
But the cat ran away the moment she stepped closer. She kept chasing it and followed it to the backyard, the pool area, and failed to notice the restricted signboard.
She increased her speed and jumped at the cat. "Ahh catch you!!"
The cat meowed, shaking. "Awwwwnnn, so cute…" she muttered, forgetting she was sitting on the floor! kept admiring it, until she heard a horrifying scream and realised where she was. She flinched, stood up and looked at the pool, then froze.