The Main Gate of Iron Hearth Castle. One Week After the Assassin Attack.
The high-pitched, ostentatious blast of a golden trumpet shattered the morning stillness of Northreach.
Teet-teet-teeeeet!
The sound was gratingly insistent, sending a flock of ravens perched on the castle towers into a frantic, wing-beating flight. Moments later, an impossibly lavish carriage emerged from the swirling mist. It was painted a pristine ivory with shimmering solid gold filigree, pulled by four pedigree white stallions. The carriage came to a halt directly in front of the massive oak gates, which still bore the charred scars of the battle from nights prior.
The crest emblazoned on the door was unmistakable: The Golden Sun. The official seal of the Royal Family of Aethelgard.
A royal envoy stepped down with an affected, preened grace. He wore a heavily powdered white wig, his face caked in makeup that made him look like a porcelain doll. He continuously pressed a rose-scented handkerchief to his nose, as if the very air of Northreach were a lethal toxin that might kill him on the spot. Tch.
"By the grace of His Majesty, King Aethelgard IV!" the envoy squeaked in a voice so shrill it made ears ring. "A summons for Duke Lucian Sudrath and his immediate family!"
The giant oak gates groaned open slowly. This time, there was no military parade. Only Duke Lucian, Rianor, and Roland emerged to greet him. They wore the best formal attire they possessed—though it looked drab and outdated compared to the envoy's flamboyant excess.
"I am Lucian Sudrath," the Duke stated flatly, his gaze sharp beneath his fur-lined cloak.
The envoy handed over a red velvet scroll with visible disdain, as if terrified of catching a commoner's filth.
"This is an official invitation to the Capital, Sol-Regis. You are required to appear within fourteen days to attend a hearing regarding... the 'Mist Valley Incident.'"
Roland's face tightened instantly. A hearing. That was just a polite term for a one-sided tribunal.
"And..." the envoy continued, a condescending smirk playing on his lips, "through the immense generosity of His Majesty, you are also invited to attend the Grand Ball celebrating Prince Cedric's twentieth birthday, to be held the day after the hearing concludes."
The envoy cast a fleeting, judgmental glance at the scarred and somber walls of the Sudrath fortress.
"A personal word of advice, Duke... bring appropriate attire. It would be a tragedy if you were to embarrass the North in front of the... civilized nobility of the Capital."
Lucian accepted the scroll without a flicker of emotion. "Thank you for the advice. We will be there."
Without wasting another second, the envoy scrambled back into his carriage and ordered the coachman to drive. They sped off as if the poverty of Northreach were a highly contagious plague.
The Dining Hall (Family Mode: ON). 10 Minutes Later.
SLAM!
Rianor threw the scroll onto the massive wooden table. He exhaled sharply, rubbing his throbbing temples.
"It's an open trap," Rianor muttered. "That hearing is just a pretext for Morvath to snare us legally. And the Ball..."
"...is a stage for social execution," Roland finished, his fingers drumming restlessly against the wood. "They want us to show up looking like destitute, backwater peasants. They want the entire nobility to laugh at us before they drop the hammer."
"Prince Cedric..." Rhea, who was sitting in the corner idly filing her nails with a dagger, murmured softly. "In the original Lady Rhea's memories, this prince was my fiancé, wasn't he? But he broke it off a year ago because I was considered a 'wild girl from the north' who lacked manners."
"Oh? So he's your ex?" Riven teased, chewing on a piece of whole-grain bread.
"An annoying ex," Rhea corrected sharply. "The type of narcissistic prick who thinks the sun rises and sets just for him."
Duchess Aurelia stood up from her chair. Something in her gaze shifted. It wasn't the flash of a killer's rage, but the burning ambition of a woman who had once dominated the high-society circles of her previous life.
"They think we're some destitute family with no pride?" Aurelia asked softly, her tone enough to make skin crawl. "They dare humiliate my children in public?"
She took the letter and folded it with clinical precision. "Fine. We'll play their game."
Aurelia looked at Rianor intently. "Rianor, what's our current liquid capital?"
"We have eight thousand gold coins in liquid cash, Mother. The rest is tied up in the factory construction and soldier wages."
"That is more than enough," Aurelia decided. "We're going to the Capital. And we won't arrive as cowering defendants. We're going there as Trendsetters."
She pointed to her children one by one with a steady finger.
"Duke Lucian and I will act as the heads of the family. Our job is to project unshakable authority. Roland, you are our spokesperson and diplomat; win the legal debates and charm the individuals. Rianor, you're the strategist; stay in the background for business negotiations and intel gathering. And Rhea..."
Aurelia looked at her eldest daughter. "...you are the family's personal guardian and the 'ex-fiancée who found her glow'. We'll make that Prince regret every word he ever spoke to you."
"Ugh... so I don't get to go to the party?" Riven grumbled, pouting. "I really wanted to try the fancy food there."
"No, brother. You're too honest," Rianor interjected. "If you go, you'll end up punching the Prince's face in the middle of the ballroom. Better you stay here. You're the King of Northreach while we're gone. Guard the factories."
"Fine, I surrender," Riven sighed. "But please doggy-bag some of the good stuff for me."
Aurelia clapped once, pulling everyone's focus. "Now, let's talk about appearances. That envoy called us 'unsophisticated'? We're going to make them choke on their own spit when they see us."
"Rumina!" Aurelia called.
"Yes, Mother?" Rumina answered from the doorway.
"Make me a full-length mirror from the highest quality glass you have. I need to design clothes for everyone."
Aurelia looked at Rhea, Rianor, and Roland. "You three, cut the carbs starting today. I'm doing the fittings with Slim Fit and Haute Couture models."
"Wait, a diet?" Roland slumped immediately.
"In this world, noble clothing is too bloated—full of unnecessary lace and gaudy ruffles," Aurelia explained, her designer soul fully awakened. "We're going for Modern Minimalism. Sharp tuxedo suits for the men, and elegant silk evening gowns for the women."
She looked back at Rianor. "Rianor, those scented soaps... pack them in exclusive glass boxes. We'll present them as special gifts for the Queen. That will be our secret weapon for political protection."
Rianor grinned. "Bribery wrapped as luxury gifts. I love the way you think, Mother."
Three Days Later – The Fitting Room.
Rumina and the castle tailors, who had been specifically trained by Aurelia, had just finished the first prototypes. Roland stepped out from behind the changing curtain.
He wasn't wearing a stiff tunic or a heavy velvet cloak. Roland wore a black Slim Fit suit with a contrasting high-collared white shirt and a black bowtie. The cut was impeccable, hugging his frame and highlighting his athletic posture perfectly.
"Incredible," commented Riven, who was casually munching on an apple. "You look sharp, Roland. Like a prince from a distant land ready to get married."
Then, Lady Rhea stepped out.
Her gown was a deep midnight blue, made of silk that draped elegantly over her form. The cut showed a hint of her shoulders and back, yet maintained an air of profound dignity and elegance. There were no gaudy gold laces or excessive ornaments. Just simple, graceful, and lethal.
Her hair, usually tied up haphazardly, was now in a modern bun held by a minimalist silver hairpin.
"Good heavens..." Roland whispered in awe. "Prince Cedric is going to cry blood when he sees you like this, sister."
Rhea smirked, twirling once in front of the giant mirror. Beneath the high slit of her gown, a garter belt was visible, where she had tucked her Mithril dagger.
"Beautiful yet deadly. I like it."
Finally, Duke Lucian and Duchess Aurelia stepped out together. A true power couple. Lucian wore a modern military-style suit with bold gold accents, while Aurelia wore a modified gown that radiated the elegance of a queen.
"Perfect," Aurelia said with a satisfied smile. "We are ready to march."