July 9th, 1513; 18:00 hrs;
The Roseveil Palace had rarely ever looked so luminous.
Golden chandeliers hung from the ceilings like stars, reflecting light on the marble floors.
The vast ballroom buzzed with music, laughter, and chattering.
Foreign dignitaries, high-exalted families, nobles, politicians, and emissaries from allied nations moved in this sea of riches, gems, and regalia.
Every guest was busy socializing with each other, but their eyes often wandered to the grand stage at the far end of the hall, elevated by stairs, with a massive sigil of the Cythos; the phoenix flying over the sun.
And even a level above the stage was a grand throne, reserved for none other than the King of Cythos.
The occasion was grand, and the king was expected since it was the second prince's first official banquet.
The coming-of-age of the second Prince, Lucien Callastre.
And for the first time, his face would officially be made public.
Suddenly, as the people were chattering, socializing, and clinking their goblets, the air in the ballroom became heavier, denser, as if the gravity itself increased its pull.
The golden trumpets blared once, and then, silence.
He had arrived.
From the side of the highest level in the room, clad in golden and white armor with fur, the King of Cythos moved like an unstoppable force.
He sat on the throne like a mountain, unwilling to bow to anyone.
Gerald Callastre.
One of the few Overlords in the entire world, the King of Cythos and the Lion of the South.
His golden crown gleamed, his shoulders broad, covered with a cape of the trimmings made out of the finest furs.
His blond hair was long, braided like the mane of a lion, tumbling down his chestplate.
Everyone felt the sheer weight of his existence, nearly forgetting the other person who followed him and stood next to him.
Edric Callastre, the first Prince of Cythos, and Lucien's step-brother.
Handsome, lady-killer face, adorned with pale-blond hair, just like his father, and his lavender eyes, almost always attracted the attention of everyone, mostly ladies.
But this time, he was inevitably outshone by Gerald.
His expression was stern, and he didn't show any emotion, but if one looked closely, it had a certain hint of annoyance.
Needless to say, he and Lucien were at odds, and if not for his father, he wouldn't have attended this event entirely.
…
"Announcing the arrival of His Highness, Prince Lucien Callastre, the second child of the exalted Lion of the South."
The herald's voice echoed throughout the hall, calming down the crowd yet again, after they recovered from Gerald's arrival.
Lucien stepped forward.
Flash! Flash! Flash!
The cameramen who were only allowed to be on the first floor, in the back of the hall, behind curtains and away from everyone's eyes, instantly clicked dozens, if not hundreds, of pictures of the second prince.
But Lucien didn't react.
His expressions were calm, composed, half eye-lidded, carrying his body with a certain confidence.
Dressed in the ceremonial white and golden robes, his blond hairs were neatly tied back, a golden sigil of Cythos clipping it all back.
The moment the crowd saw his demeanor, which was stoic, sharp, and mature, a wave of murmurs swept the entire room.
He was not what they expected.
He wasn't the spoiled, unruly, and womanizing prince they expected from the rumors.
He wasn't the scandal magnet they talked about in other high society banquets.
He walked gracefully, not even acknowledging their existences, as if they were nothing but bugs in his eyes.
'Is it truly the second prince we heard so much about?'
This was the unanimous thought of everyone in the hall.
But they couldn't voice their opinions in the presence of Gerald.
Lucien reached the throne, standing on the opposite side of Edric, as Gerald gave him an affirming nod of approval, and Lucien returned a slight bow.
Gerald was rather pleased with this change in the behaviour of his second child, unaware of the storm brewing behind those grey eyes of Lucien.
…
Moments later, another announcement echoed.
"Introducing the fiancée of the second Prince, Lady Selene Vossberg, daughter of Duchess Renata Vossberg of Solstice."
Since Selene wasn't a member of the Cythos Royalty, yet, she didn't arrive from the inside of the palace.
Clank!
The main door of the ballroom opened, and everyone turned their head in curiosity.
Many people had already dug information out of the Solstice Palace, since it wasn't a high-class secret or anything.
Those people knew the newly appointed Duchy of Solstice, and the fact that it was ruled by a widow.
They also knew that the Prince was betrothed to their eldest daughter, basically Renata selling her as a piece to gain more influence.
Selene entered, dressed in layered white and crimson robes, embroidered with moonflowers nd all sorts of gems and crystals, a look befitting the fiancée of a Prince.
She looked otherworldly, her beauty instantly erupting the entire room in a buzz.
Lucien looked at her, nodding slightly as he walked down the dais with measured and confident steps.
The people standing in the way of the entrance took a step back, giving way to the Prince.
The low-voiced chatters, the continuous flash of the cameras, and people's gazes, he paid them no mind.
His eyes were fixed on Selene, only moving once to acknowledge Arthur's nod among other guests.
Selene's eyes were half-lidded, waiting a few seconds for Lucien to pick her up, which he did.
A moment later, she saw a palm appearing in front of her, and Lucien bowing slightly and saying, "May I have this honor, Lady Vossberg?"
She lifted her gaze, smiling politely, as she put her palm over his.
"The honor's all mine, Your Highness."
The way they made eye contact, the way they smiled at each other, the way their eyes glimmered.
This sparked a series of gossip in the crowd.
—They suit each other.
—Look at them, this cannot be a political marriage.
—Was the Royal family hiding their relationship?
Lucien slowly lifted her gloved hands and kissed the back of them. "You look stunning, Lady."
"And you look like a charming young man, Your Highness." She giggled, making a few people gasp even further.
"Shall we?" Lucien asked for a dance, and Selene agreed.
And thus, the first dance of the ball started.