Chapter 6

"You're so beautiful today, my princess."

The familiar voice pulled Evelyne from her thoughts, grounding her back to reality.

She turns, already knowing who it was. "You don't need to flatter me like that, Father," she said with a soft smile.

Duke Alistair Ashvale stood before her, his gaze filled with warmth and quiet pride. When she was younger, his compliments had always made her beam with joy. But now, as she had grown older, they carried a different weight. It isn't that she disliked them. It is far from it. But there was something almost bittersweet about the way he still saw her, as if she was the same little girl clinging to his hand, rather than the woman she had become.

"What were you thinking so deeply?", asked Duke while inspecting his daughter's expression.

"O- Oh! It s nothing, father. I was just a bit nervous but now that you re here. I feel more relieved."

Hearing that, Duke responds with a warm smile. He is glad that his daughter feels safe around him. Then, Duke gives her a gentle headpats before leaving to greet the guests.

Evelyne watched as her father moves through the crowd, greeting guests with his usual warmth and effortless charm. His smile never wavered, his presence commanding yet inviting.

Yet, despite the lively atmosphere around her, Evelyne's thoughts remained elsewhere.

Her mind replays the moment she had witnessed just minutes ago. Veyna standing alone in the corner of the ballroom, her expression unreadable at first. But then, something shifted. The way her body tensed, the way her hand clutched her chest as if she was in an unbearable pain.

She was the one who begged the Duke to invite Veyna to attend today's banquet. The Duke refused at first, knowing how wicked and evil that woman is but for his beloved daughter, he did anyway.

However, she doesn't need to attend if she is sick. A flicker of concern crosses Evelyne's face.

Is Lady Veyna alright? She looked as if she was in pain...

She glances back toward the spot where Veyna had been, but she is gone. The unease in Evelyne's chest only grew stronger.

Then, her gaze shifts to the red haired lady that was holding Veyna a moment ago.

Maybe i should ask her.

However, before Evelyne could ask her, the grand doors of the ballroom swung open, and a herald's voice rang through the hall.

"Announcing the arrival of Their Royal Highnesses."

All conversation ceased as the guests turned their attention to the entrance. The air grew heavy with anticipation, every noble instinctively straightening their posture.

At the grand entrance stood King Charles De Varethorne and Queen Ruriana De Varethorne, their regal presence commanding the attention of everyone in the ballroom. Dressed in opulent yet dignified attire, they exud an air of absolute authority, a living embodiment of the empire's power.

Behind them stood their four royal children.

The first prince, Henry, composed and ever-dignified.

The second prince, Edric, who is called the bastard prince, the one who was sentenced to be exiled soon.

The third prince, Aaron, the man of the hour, whose engagement had brought this grand gathering to life.

And finally, the only princess of the empire, Carla, graceful and poised like a true royal.

Their golden-blond hair, the unmistakable mark of the Varethorne bloodline, gleams under the chandelier's warm glow, as if touches by light itself. Being the only bloodline who born with magic abilities, their aura is undeniably powerful, almost invincible.

Evelyne eyes fell straight on her fiancé whom she loves dearly. She exhaled softly, setting aside her thoughts about Veyna for now.

Veyna staggers through the empty hallway, her steps uneven as she leans against the cold stone wall for support. The grand ballroom, filled with music and laughter, feels like a distant world compared to the suffocating silence around her now.

Only if she could just make it to the guestroom, just find a moment to breathe, she might be able to regain control. But with every step, the pain only worsened. Her fingers dug into her chest, desperate to ease the unbearable sting.

*Is it because of those voices*?

Her mind replays the whispers from earlier, cruel and taunting. They had always lurked in the shadows of her thoughts, but never before had they triggered pain like this.

*The past three or four days... the pain had been manageable. So why now? Why here, of all places*?

Her breathing grows heavier as she pushes forward. She needs to endure just a little longer.

It will be fine. That s what she wants herself to believe.

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