Evelyn couldn't even be bothered. Let them talk. Let them stare. Their opinions were as fleeting as the music in the background—there one moment, forgotten the next. She simply sipped her drink, calm and untouchable, as if none of it had anything to do with her at all.
Gerald stood behind her like a stone pillar. Silently guarding her.
Then came a second announcement, the herald's voice echoing with stately authority across the marble pillars of the hall.
Royal Herald: "Announcing the arrival of His Grace, Grand Duke Rochester, Rochester and the Young Master, Edrick Rochester."
All eyes turned as the towering doors opened once again.
The Grand Duke entered first—stern, regal, his presence commanding respect with every step. Beside him walked Edrick, dressed in noble finery, his posture straight, his gaze calm. Though still young, there was a quiet strength in him that didn't go unnoticed.
As the pair entered the hall, curious glances shifted—not toward them, but between Edrick and Evelyn. Whispers rose subtly like wind through dry leaves.
But Evelyn? She didn't even glance their way.
She lifting her glass once more and sipping her juice with serene detachment, as though the entire room didn't exist.
After a while, another announcement rang out—louder, more formal, echoing through the high ceilings of the grand hall.
Royal Herald: "Presenting Her Majesty, The Empress, Florina de W. La Cristiane and His Majesty, the Emperor Consort, Curtis del Soir Cristiane along with Her Highness, the Second Star of the Empire, Princess Rosalia de E. Van Cristiane."
The music softened. All eyes turned.
Three figures entered the hall, clad in the finest of royal attire.
The Empress and the Emperor Consort walked side by side—heads held high, exuding dignity and command. Behind them, the young second princess, Rosalia, followed with tentative steps. It was her first official appearance at a banquet.
She was a vision of youthful elegance. Red hair like silk caught the golden light of the chandeliers, and her wide green eyes, framed with nervous wonder, peeked out from beneath curled lashes. She wore a beautiful blue dress, soft as a petal, fit for a princess.
Everyone in the hall bowed in unison.
Everyone… except Evelyn, who remained standing in her quiet corner, calmly sipping her juice, eyes locked on the little girl behind the empress.
The royals ascended to their seats at the head of the hall. The Empress picked up a glass of champagne, raised it with poise, and addressed the room.
Empress Florina: "Thank you all for coming to my daughter's birthday banquet. There's no need for formality—please, enjoy the evening."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The nobles relaxed, conversations resumed, and laughter returned to the air.
But Evelyn remained still, her gaze unmoving.
Her eyes were fixed on Rosalia, not with hostility—but with something deeper. Her stare was intense, almost unreadable, as though peeling back the surface to examine what lay beneath.
Evelyn (thoughts): This little sister of mine… is quite an interesting character.
Rosalia felt an intense gaze fixed on her for quite some time. She looked around and caught sight of a six or seven-year-old girl staring at her with deep ocean-blue eyes.
Curious and a bit unsettled, Rosalia leaned toward her father and asked softly,
Rosalia: "Daddy, who is that girl?"
The Empress overheard the question and smiled sweetly.
Empress Florina: "Who are you talking about, Rosa?"
Rosalia: "Her."
She pointed toward Evelyn's direction.
The Empress's eyes landed on Evelyn, and her smile instantly froze. A flicker of unconcealed disgust flashed through her gaze.
Empress Florina: "She is no one. Today is your birthday, Rosa. Just enjoy it. Don't pay attention to some irrelevant person."
Rosalia nodded obediently, offering a sweet smile.
Rosalia: "Okay, Mommy."
The Empress turned her sharp gaze to Curtis, her voice dripping with contempt.
Empress Florina: "Who invited her here?"
Curtis: "She is also royalty, Your Majesty."
Empress Florina: "Don't allow such unnecessary things to happen again."
Curtis: "I'll keep it in mind, Your Majesty."
Curtis then glanced toward Evelyn, who was quietly sipping her juice, expression unreadable.
Curtis (thoughts): She looks different than before. What's wrong with her? Why do I feel such a heavy, oppressive presence from her?
He knew Evelyn had once been a desperate child craving her mother's love—he had watched from afar as she waited time and again outside the Empress's chambers, unnoticed and ignored.
So why does she seem so different now? Why does her presence feel even more overwhelming than the Empress herself?
He shook his head slightly.
He must be imagining things.
Soon after, the hall bustled with movement as one noble family after another stepped forward to present their gifts to the Second Princess.
Rosalia sat beside the Empress, her posture elegant but her eyes wide with amazement as one beautifully wrapped box after another was laid before her.
Jewels. Silks. Enchanted toys. Miniature magical beasts in glass orbs. The floor before her glittered like a treasury.
Then, the Empress herself rose, holding a small velvet box in one hand.
Empress Florina: "And as a mother's gift… I bestow the Crystal Palace upon my beloved daughter, Rosalia."
The crowd gasped.
A wave of murmurs followed almost immediately, thick with shock and speculation.
"The Crystal Palace?"
"That's only meant for the Crown Princess, isn't it?"
"She's declaring Princess Rosalia as the heir… right?"
And slowly, almost instinctively, more than a few guests turned their heads to look at Evelyn.
But Evelyn had already finished the last sip of her juice. With perfect calm, she set the empty glass down on a nearby table.
Then, before anyone could fully register it, she rose to her feet.
She walked forward—not hurriedly but with regal poise. Her dress swayed with each step like rippling moonlight, her crystal heels soft against the polished floor.
The nobles parted in silence as she passed.
Evelyn approached the royal dais, where the Empress, Emperor Consort, and Rosalia sat. She stopped a proper distance away, curtsied deeply with flawless grace, and spoke in a clear, composed voice that carried through the hall:
Evelyn: "I, Evelyn de P. La Cristiane, greet Your Majesties—the radiant pillars upon whom this empire stands. May the guardian spirits' blessings always shine upon you both."
There was a pause.
A breathless hush.
Empress Florina stare for a while at this daughter of her then said coolly,
Empress Florina: "At ease."
Evelyn: "Thank you, Your Majesty."
She straightened, her expression composed, her eyes steady.
Rosalia blinked up at her, surprised. This older girl… so calm, so elegant—was her?
Rosalia: "Cristiane? You're… the First Princess? My elder sister?"
Evelyn looked at her little sister.
And smiled slightly.
Evelyn: "Yes. I'm indeed the First Princess of Cristiane."
Evelyn's gaze slowly turned toward the Empress, her eyes calm, her expression unreadable.
Evelyn: "Your Majesty, I have a slight doubt. May I ask for clarification?"
Florina's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering beneath her composed smile. Still, she kept her tone smooth.
Empress Florina: "What is it?"
Evelyn: "The Cristiane Empire has stood for a thousand years. With such a long history, can we simply discard our traditions and replace them at will? Of course, times change, and people may form their own ideas… but I wonder—can tradition be changed simply because someone wants it to?"
The Empress's lips tightened. The question was too pointed to be innocent.
Empress Florina: "Of course not. Not even the Emperor or Empress has the right to alter tradition as they please. Our traditions were established by our founder and have been upheld ever since. No one has dared to change them."
A faint smile tugged at Evelyn's lips.
Evelyn: "I see. Then, I must respectfully raise an objection regarding the gift Your Majesty presented to the Second Princess."
Everyone grasped.
Is the princess trying to challenge the empress's authority right now.