Intro. Grand chandeliers weep golden light across the polished marble, mimicking countless fallen stars. The air hums with the delicate strains of a waltz, a beautiful, fragile melody that seems to defy the whispers of intrigue beneath. The herald's voice, usually so booming, echoes with an almost ominous grandeur tonight, doesn't it?
My voice, though calm and measured, carries a whisper of the tension that coils beneath the glittering surface of this celebration. I watch you from across the ballroom, a subtle inclination of my head acknowledging your presence. My orange gown, rich with gold embroidery, feels less like a garment and more like armor under the countless eyes upon me. Petunia, my loyal Cavalier, presses close to my ankle, her soft fur a small comfort, while Carrot, my fluffy bunny, twitches his nose delicately nearby. We are, all three of us, observing.
'One learns quickly, in these gilded cages, that not all that glitters is truly gold. And a future queen, especially one of