They arrived before the Imperial Palace, perched like a crown jewel at the very peak of the Celestial Heights.
Nobles spilled out of carriages wrapped in velvets and jewels, forming a glittering queue of egos and ambition.
The marble steps glead under floating lanterns, and the golden banners of the Empire fluttered proudly in the wind as if even the air here slled of politics and perfu.
However, Verena couldn’t help but stare at Clarina like so obsessed fangirl.
"I-Is sothing wrong, my lady?" Clarina asked, visibly flustered.
"No, just admiring how stunning you look in that dress," Verena said with a thumbs-up.
Clarina looked absolutely breathtaking in the fitted black gown, the fabric hugging her tall, slim fra, while the subtle slit at the side gave a peek at her long, graceful legs.
Her hair was tied up in an elegant updo, showcasing her sharp features and piercing gaze.
She was more like a seductive assassin than a knight, with a sword resting by her side.
"I see..." Clarina squinted, her gaze sharp with obvious judgnt.
Ouch.
Can you bla Verena though? She was eting her forr teenage crush in real life!
She wanted to be best friends with her, but that piercing look of judgnt? Definitely not the warm, fuzzy vibe she had imagined. No friendship anyti soon.
Once it was their turn at the end of the line, the three of them gracefully disembarked from the carriage.
"Wait, Verena..." Orasia gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "Here, take this."
She pressed sothing into Verena’s hand, and when she pulled away, Verena blinked in surprise. It was the Obsidian Relic, the one that had bound her to the power of Ophiuchus.
"Since it gave you a power I never thought you’d have... I think you should keep it as a lucky charm," Orasia said, her smile softening. "I’m not there with you at the academy anymore... and... I know I failed you as a mother. But this is my way of trying."
Verena stared at the relic for a mont, unsure what to make of it.
Maybe her mother did care after all, but was just hopeless at showing it.
She couldn’t figure out what original Verena would have felt, but... now wasn’t the ti for that.
No point in dwelling on affections given too late.
"Thank you..."
They entered the palace, lining up with the other nobles. One by one, guests descended the grand staircase as they were introduced.
"Now please welco, Count and Countess Violak!"
"Now please welco, Viscount and Viscountess Lorion!"
Before their turn ca, Verena leaned in and whispered sothing to Clarina. An instruction.
With a subtle nod, Clarina was gone in an instant, blending into the crowd.
Now, it was just her and her mother walking forward.
As they neared the center of the ballroom, it felt like the spotlight had shifted to them.
"Please welco, Duchess Dowager D’Auvergne and Heiress D’Auvergne!"
[System Alert: Danger Zone Activated.]
[The Plot Has Officially Triggered.]
[Norvan and Penelope Have Noticed Your Presence.]
[Prepare for Incoming Consequences.]
’Yeah, screw that. I’m going to make her regret even thinking about ssing with .’
She descended the stairs, the weight of eyes on her.
So curious, so wary, as her reputation preceded her.
Of course, not everyone was thrilled to see her, but Verena couldn’t care less.
As the last noble stepped down, it was finally ti. The announcent rang out:
"And now, let us welco, Princess Penelope!"
The murmurs rippled through the crowd, growing louder. And there she was, Penelope.
With her golden locks cascading perfectly down her back, skin flawless like porcelain, and that unbelievably polished smile that scread ’I’m better than you.’
Her dress shimred with every step, making her look like a walking chandelier.
How charming. How insufferable.
Verena couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
It was like staring at a perfectly sculpted statue... of soone you wanted to punch.
She was done letting fate call the shots.
It was ti to take matters into her own hands and have a little fun with it.
With a subtle flick of her focus, Verena tapped into the fabric of reality.
Her body felt lighter, her mind slipping into a second world, like entering a dream where she was in control.
She closed her eyes, took a breath, and when she opened them again, the threads were everywhere - twisting, weaving, all around her.
Penelope, in her glittering splendor, was gracefully descending the stairs, her head held high like she was the Queen of the Universe. How perfectly poised.
"Trip," Verena murmured under her breath.
It was subtle at first. Penelope, with her graceful steps and self-important smile, was walking down the stairs, basking in whispers of admiration.
"Oh, the bloodline of the Imperial Family is truly breathtaking..."
"Such grace..."
But then, sothing strange happened.
Penelope’s elegant stride faltered.
Her foot hovered in mid-air, as if she had lost all connection to the ground.
The whispers grew louder, but Penelope didn’t hear them.
All she could focus on was the creeping sensation that she was falling, and before she could even register what was happening, she lost her balance entirely.
"OOMPH!"
Penelope hit the ground hard.
First her face, then her butt, then, her face again, followed by her butt.
The grand spectacle continued, with her front finally eting the floor in an unceremonious splat.
The crowd gasped.
If Penelope thought she was petty, Verena was about to give her a masterclass.
Now that she had the power, no one, especially not her annoying employees, was safe.
They would all trip.
"PRINCESS PENELOPE!" A butler rushed to her side, grabbing her as if she were about to topple over completely, but Penelope pushed herself up.
And a nosebleed.
"WHO DID THAT?!!" Penelope shot to her feet, eyes wild with fury.
The crowd exchanged confused glances.
In an instant, her carefully crafted image ca crumbling down.
"Is she really blaming soone for her own lack of decorum?" a noble grandma muttered, her voice dripping with judgnt.
"I SAID, WHO DID THAT?!" Penelope’s voice rose again, demanding answers like a child throwing a tantrum.
"But, my lady, there was no one around you," the butler attempted to calm her down, his voice dripping with politeness.
Penelope’s gaze narrowed, locking onto Verena with pure venom amongst the crowd.
"YOUUU!!" she scread, pointing an accusatory finger.
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