Episode 3: “Enemies, Exes, and Enchanted Eclairs

Scene: The Grand Banquet Hall – That Evening

The chandeliers blazed like bottled constellations. Music swirled from enchanted instruments, and nobles adorned in shimmering silk and enchanted metals glided across the floor like peacocks in a parade.

Princess Liora entered fashionably late, descending the sweeping staircase like a storm in heels. Her gown was silver with a gradient of twilight blues, and tiny illusion-moths fluttered around her shoulders for dramatic effect.

A hush fell. Then applause. Applause for her. Of course.

But her triumphant strut faltered when she reached the head table.

There were two name cards.

One chair.

Classic.

“Only one of us can sit,” she said to Riven, who stood waiting with arms crossed and jaw clenched.

“I vote you,” he said, ever the gentleman, though his tone could’ve frozen lava.

She narrowed her eyes. “What’s your angle?”

“Public peace.”

Suspicious. Uncomfortably diplomatic.

Then she saw the woman seated just beside him. Tall. Impossibly graceful. Silver hair wound in an intricate braid. An Umbra military badge pinned to her deep violet uniform.

Liora’s heart stopped for half a second.

“Ah,” she said with a tight smile. “You must be… his mother?”

The woman’s eyes sparkled with cool amusement. “General Vaela Dusk. Commander of the Western Front. And once, his fiancée.”

Cue the internal screaming.

“Former fiancée?” Liora repeated slowly. “Oh, how quaint.” Her voice practically dripped with royal sarcasm.

“She saved my life,” Riven said, stiffly.

“Oh, how romantic.” Liora slid gracefully into the lone seat between them, lifting her wine glass in a silent don’t test me toast.

Vaela sipped her drink, unbothered. “I was simply curious if this engagement was sincere… or if it was a polished political farce.”

Liora gave her a perfect smile, the kind that had sent lesser nobles into tears. “Well, darling. I’d say the sparks are real. Wouldn’t you, General Thorne?”

Riven said nothing. But his eye twitched. Just slightly.

Liora: 1

Vaela: Undecided.

---

Scene: Dessert – An Hour Later

The tension at the head table could’ve shattered goblets. By the time dessert arrived, Liora was regretting not charming the chef into “accidentally” spilling soup on her rival.

A waiter floated over, bearing an ornate crystal tray. On it: two glowing eclairs.

“Enchanted pastries,” the waiter announced. “From the Sorcerer’s Guild of Savoré. They reveal the deepest desire of whoever eats them.”

The nobles gasped with delight. Liora narrowed her eyes like a cat watching a cursed mouse.

“Oh, how adorable,” Vaela said, clearly amused. “Care to demonstrate, Princess?”

Liora looked at Riven. “Do you believe in magical truth desserts?”

“I believe in premeditated humiliation.”

“That’s a yes.”

Before he could object, Liora snatched one of the glowing eclairs and took a bite.

The pastry vanished instantly, and in its place, a magical illusion shimmered above the table—visible to the entire hall.

It was Liora, standing in her royal bedroom, in a fluffy robe and slippers, practicing saying—

“Princess Thorne.”

Over and over. In different tones. With a blush.

The crowd erupted into whispers and delighted giggles.

Liora didn’t blink. She simply lifted her chin and said, “Well, I do like the sound of power.”

“Your turn,” she added smugly.

Riven growled something low and probably inappropriate for public settings.

He picked up the other eclair. Ate it in one bite. No hesitation.

Another illusion rose above them: Riven, sitting at his war desk, shirt sleeves rolled up, stormlight crackling from his fingertips. He wasn’t drafting strategies. He was writing in a journal.

Glowing letters on the page spelled out one name. Over and over.

“Liora.”

Gasps. Audible gasps. Someone in the back dropped a tray.

The illusion faded.

Silence fell.

Liora blinked, caught between flattered and flustered. Her heart did something weird, like a pirouette.

Riven coughed, refusing to look at her. “In my defense, that was classified.”

“You’re more dramatic than I am,” she whispered. “That’s deeply unsettling.”

“Say nothing.”

“I’m saying everything,” she said, glowing.

He finally met her gaze. And oh… there it was. That spark. That slow-burning tension threatening to become something neither of them planned for.

Before either could speak, Vaela calmly dabbed her lips with her napkin.