Episode 2: “Spin, Sparkle, Sabotage”

Scene: Royal Garden Pavilion – Press Conference, the next morning

Princess Liora Solaria adjusted the line of her enchanted bodice, which shimmered with subtle charm spells designed to distract. Her heels clicked dramatically on the marble floor as she took her seat beside General Riven Thorne, the only man in the empire who could wear all black and still somehow look like a thunderstorm about to ruin your afternoon tea.

She looked perfect. He looked furious.

Balance, as always, was restored.

Dozens of reporters leaned forward, enchanted quills floating in midair. Overhead, magical mirrors broadcast the scene across the continent. The engagement of the century—Solaria’s crown jewel and Umbra’s weapon of mass brooding—had captured public obsession overnight.

“Smile,” Liora murmured without looking at him.

“I am smiling,” Riven replied, deadpan.

She side-eyed him. “That’s your war face. You’re terrifying the pixies.”

Across from them, one of the floating pixie reporters shivered and ducked behind her glitter pad.

The Royal Press Secretary stepped forward. “Let us now open the floor for questions for our radiant royal couple.”

A bold journalist raised her hand first. “Princess Liora—what was your first impression of General Thorne?”

Liora smiled, all teeth and sparkle. “I thought, ‘Ah, there’s the man who probably irons his socks and glares at sunsets.’”

Laughter rippled through the crowd. Riven didn’t flinch.

“And you, General Thorne?” the journalist asked. “What did you think of Her Highness?”

“I thought,” Riven said without missing a beat, “There’s the woman who weaponizes charm like a blade and expects everyone to thank her for the stab wound.”

The laughter doubled.

Liora’s brows lifted in mock admiration. “Look at you. Almost funny.”

“Almost,” he agreed with a smirk that was dangerously close to flirtation.

Another reporter shot her hand up. “General, when did you realize you were falling in love?”

Riven blinked once. “I haven’t.”

Oof. The crowd gaspsnorted.

Liora turned to him slowly, smile sugar-coated and deadly. “Yet.”

Murmurs broke out instantly. One pixie dropped her inkpot. A noble fainted in the third row.

Riven leaned closer, voice low. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“I thrive on it,” she whispered. “It’s called charisma. You should try it sometime.”

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Scene: Behind the Pavilion – Ten Minutes Later

The two slipped out “for air” under the excuse of magical fatigue, which was code for we need to argue where nobody can fine us for diplomatic misconduct.

They stood near the rose hedges, framed by soft light and spiraling flower spells.

“You humiliated me in front of fifty nobles,” Riven snapped, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“You said you weren’t in love with me,” Liora shot back, crossing her arms. “It’s called mutual sabotage, darling.”

“I don’t lie.”

“Oh, so brutal honesty is your entire personality now?”

Riven’s glare crackled with tiny arcs of blue lightning. Liora’s dress sparkled with aggressive elegance.

Before either could escalate further, a faint buzzing noise emerged from the hedge.

“What… is that?” Riven asked, drawing a protective sigil mid-air.

The rose bush trembled.

Then—BOOM—a swarm of pixies exploded into the air, sparkling, squealing, and waving teeny-tiny scrolls like tabloid flyers.

“Make a wish!” one cried, trying to braid Liora’s hair.

“Kiss for the kingdom!” yelled another.

“Show us the ring!!”

Riven instinctively raised a shielding spell, but Liora was already ducking, dodging, and fending them off with a bejeweled fan.

“Do something!” she hissed. “This is a PR nightmare!”

Riven summoned a pulse of crackling storm magic that swept the pixies away like leaves in the wind—disheveled, giggling, and thoroughly enchanted.

Silence fell. Liora’s hair was full of glitter. Riven’s cape had been stolen by a rogue pixie.

She stared at him, breathless. “Was that your idea of a romantic gesture?”

“No,” he muttered. “That was survival.”

Then she did something unexpected—she laughed.

A real laugh. Sparkling and unguarded.

And Riven, for just a moment, forgot to be annoyed.

“You laugh like that often?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Liora smirked. “Only when I survive pixie attacks with my dignity intact.”

She reached up, brushing a stray petal from his shoulder—and their hands touched. Just briefly.

Magic shimmered in the air between them.

The silence felt heavier than before. Not awkward… just charged.

And neither of them said a word about it.

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