Before Arion even appeared, all the guests had already been left breathless by the entrance of Princess Amaya, daughter of King Aslan of Avallon.
She walked in with elegance, wearing a white gown that faded into soft pink, draping flawlessly over her form.
All eyes turned instantly to her. Even the King couldn't help but offer praises—understandably so, for Amaya was truly radiant. Her sweet smile never left her face, her wavy brown hair flowed gracefully, and her eyes… ah, they spoke volumes without words.
But before the guests could fully recover from their awe of Amaya, the hall suddenly fell into silence.
From atop the grand staircase, a young man began to descend, step by step—slowly, yet every footfall echoed throughout the chamber. Every gaze was drawn to him. Who else could it be, if not our beloved prince—Arion?
No need to describe his looks in detail. Honestly, you probably couldn't even imagine the structure of his nose—too perfect for your imagination to handle.
"Your Highness," Amaya said softly, curtsying as she gently lifted the hem of her gown. The way she did it… wasn't like greeting a friend. It was how one greeted a king.
"Aren't you overdoing it?" Arion asked, his voice calm with a subtle smile playing on his lips.
He extended his hand to her—a silent invitation to join him on the dance floor that night.
Music began to flow. Gentle, majestic, and deeply moving. The melody became the backdrop for two souls gradually merging in perfect motion. Their steps mirrored one another with such harmony that the entire ballroom felt enchanted. One by one, the guests joined in with their partners, drawn into the rhythm that Arion and Amaya had set under the shimmering glow of the crystal chandeliers.
"Your steps are terrible. Have you still been skipping dance class?" Arion teased with a faint smile—subtle, but sharp.
Amaya chuckled without shame. "You know, I've been skipping etiquette lessons too. Almost two, maybe three months now. I'm starting to consider it an achievement."
Arion laughed quietly, but there was something deeper in his eyes.
"I'm jealous of you. I… can't skip classes anymore. The only way I can ever be free again… is by fixing my life. I want to prove that Blessing isn't everything. I can be more than that."
Amaya looked at him for a moment. There was pride in her eyes. Understanding.
And perhaps… an unspoken hope.
The night carried on, flowing like a dream.
And just as the clock struck twelve, the sky above the palace exploded with light.
Fireworks burst into bloom, painting the heavens with color, accompanied by the cheers of the city below.
Outside the hall, Arion stood with Amaya and the honored guests, watching the skies as if they were being blessed by the stars themselves.
But the moment of beauty ended all too suddenly.
A royal attendant approached Arion and whispered something in his ear. Quiet, but clear.
The King had summoned him. Tonight. To his private study.
Without suspicion, Arion made his way through the halls. He expected to hear advice or the usual counsel from his father. But when he arrived at the corridor leading to the King's study… something felt wrong.
Still. Silent. Not a single guard at the door.
Even the air felt abandoned, swallowed by time.
Arion knocked. No answer.
He tried again. Silence.
With growing unease, he touched the handle.
It wasn't locked.
Slowly, he pushed the door open… and what he saw made his heart stop.
His body froze.
His gaze trembled.
In the center of the room, just in front of the grand desk… lay the man he knew better than anyone—King Balderick.
His father.
The King's body was still, soaked in blood.
Arion's eyes widened. His breath caught in his throat.
The world, which only moments ago had been filled with warmth and light… collapsed in an instant.
He couldn't speak.
He couldn't move.
He could only stand there, shaking, his heart shattered, and his mind unwilling to accept the truth laid bare before him.