The sky was shrouded in storm clouds, swallowing every trace of moonlight. Thunder rumbled, its echo carrying across the darkened sky, while a cold breeze slipped through the tall window, tugging at the soft curtains. There, a young woman stood in silence, her figure touched by the restless air, marked with quiet elegance of someone born to wealth and privilege.
She wore a crisp white blouse with puffed sleeves and a high collar, fastened with a cravat. A corset-like waist armor with chains and filigree cinched her figure. Slim black trousers with golden embroidery allowed easy movement, while a sheer overskirt flowed behind her like a veil.
Her midnight-dark hair was swept into an intricate updo. Soft waves framed her crown and gathered into a refined bun at the back, creating a style both regal and composed.
She gazed at the sky, her emerald eyes sparkling, yet shadowed with sorrow—a silent testament to a heart mourning someone gone.
"Looks like it might rain soon…" she said, her voice calm but hesitant.
"This weather… it reminds me of that day…"
A sudden knock at the door shattered the quiet.
"Madam Grace, everyone has already gathered, and they're waiting for you," said the man outside the door, his voice carrying the steadiness of experience.
"Alright, I'll be there in a minute. You go ahead and start the preparations," Grace replied, her gaze still lingering on the dark, gloomy sky.
"As you wish, Madam," the man said, nodding respectfully before stepping away.
She stared at the sky for a moment, then turned and walked toward her wardrobe.
Her room was filled with lavish furniture and timeworn antiques. A large bed dominated the space, draped in deep green bedding and embroidered blankets. On either side stood ornate wooden nightstands, their carved details catching the warm, golden glow of crystal lamps.
The walls bore dark, aged stone etched with intricate flourishes. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, its many flames casting a steady glow across the room. A towering arched window stood open along one wall, delicate ironwork tracing the curve of the arch above it.
Despite the richness of the décor, the room remained dimly lit. The lamps cast only a muted radiance, as if the occupant deliberately shunned bright light.
She opened the wardrobe and took out a small treasure chest of blue crystal and gold, its surface glimmering softly in the lamplight.
Inside the chest lay a golden locket. She opened it slowly, revealing two tiny portraits of her late parents. She looked at them for a long moment, her eyes glimmering with a quiet, restrained sorrow.
"Mother, Father… it's been eight years already. Tonight feels like that night—the same gloom, the same stillness," she murmured.
"But… I mustn't be sad. Today is the day of my coronation—and my twenty-first birthday." She gave a faint, almost self-conscious scoff.
"I promise you, I'll be the monarch you hoped I would become… like Father."
"I'll continue to protect Elenor and its people, as I always have."
"I'll watch over Ray and Rui… and Welfred, Aunt Sera… everyone who calls this kingdom home."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the locket.
"I won't fail you."
Before she could continue, a soft knock at the door interrupted her.
"Sister, are you in there?" came a gentle voice from behind the door.
Grace didn't lift her gaze from the locket. She recognized the voice at once.
"I am," she replied softly.
"Can I come in?"
Grace closed the locket slowly before answering.
"Yes, come in."
The door creaked open, revealing a boy in the doorway. Grace swiftly slipped the locket back into the chest and tucked it away in the wardrobe.
He walked toward her, his footsteps soft against the floor, and stopped at her side. The boy barely reached her shoulder, shifting his weight as if unsure what to say. Grace gently closed the wardrobe and turned to him.
"Ray…" A soft smile touched her lips.
"Sister…" he said softly.
"Did you need something?" Grace asked softly.
"Yes… I wanted to see you," Ray replied, his voice quiet but steady.
Grace smiled. "See me? You see me every day."
A faint blush colored his cheeks. "I know. But it's your birthday. I wanted to see you first… to tell you how beautiful you look today."
Leaning closer, Grace teased, "And you say that every day. What's different now?"
His gaze dropped. "It's your coronation. After today, you'll be queen… with even more duties."
Grace knelt and gently lifted his chin. "Are you worried I won't have time for you?"
He gave a small nod.
"Don't worry." She smiled. "No matter how busy I get, I'll always make time for you two."
He looked up at her. "Promise?"
"Promise," she whispered.
Grace rose to her feet, glancing at the door before looking back at him.
"Where's Rui? I don't see her."
"She's asleep," he replied.
"Already?" Grace frowned slightly. "I thought she'd be excited."
"She was… so worked up she just crashed," he said with a faint smile.
Grace chuckled softly. "We should wake her before the ceremony, or she'll be mad."
He nodded, and she reached out, taking his hand.
They left the room and walked down the corridor. After passing two chambers, they stopped before a massive white door adorned with intricate golden carvings. Two guards stood at either side.
They bowed to Grace and Ray. She acknowledged them with a small nod, grasped the handle, and pushed the door open. The two entered together.
The room beyond was brightly illuminated, its warm light a stark contrast to Grace's dim quarters. A grand chandelier hung from the ornate ceiling, scattering light across ivory walls and polished floors.
At the center stood a towering four-poster bed draped in heavy curtains. The rest of the chamber carried the same quiet luxury—velvet furnishings, tall curtained windows, and a marble fireplace trimmed with gold. Yet small traces of its young occupants softened the grandeur: a wooden practice sword rested against a table, a few stuffed toys lay scattered near the bed, and a small stool had been pulled up beside the window.
The palette of ivory, cream, and gold bathed the chamber in quiet elegance as Grace and Ray stepped further inside.
They moved toward the bed. Curled beneath the covers lay a small girl, her slight frame almost swallowed by the pillows, fast asleep.
Ray stepped closer, reached out, and gently shook her shoulder.
"Wake up, Miss Ruivienne. How long are you planning to sleep?" he teased.
"Ugh… who's this?" the girl mumbled, slowly opening her eyes to see him standing there.
"Oh, Ray—it's you," she said, rubbing her left eye as a small yawn escaped her.
"Wait—the ceremony! Is it over already?"
She shot upright and glared at him. "Why didn't you wake me up? I told you to, didn't I?"