The envelope sat on my desk like a provocation. It was thick, cream-colored, rimd with gold foil, and sealed in red wax bearing the national sigil. Heavy enough to bruise soone if thrown. Intimidating in every sense.
I hadn’t opened it. I hadn’t even touched it.
Abe stood nearby, hands in his pocket, a smirk on his face, his eyes in a cheeky shade of blue.
"It’s not cursed," he said jokingly.
I glanced at him. "It might as well be."
He walked over and gave the envelope a light tap with the back of his knuckle. "Please open it, Miss Roen. It looks like it will be sothing fun."
"Could still be a mistake."
"It’s got your na. Your full na. In terrifyingly accurate ink," He was clearly enjoying this.
"I didn’t ask for this," I muttered, turning away. "I didn’t even know this kind of thing still happened outside fairy tales and assassination attempts."
Abe smiled. "The Annual Sovereign Gala. It’s real. Very real. And you’ve been very deliberately summoned."
I groaned. "I can’t even pick my own shoes without second-guessing myself. Now I’m expected to mingle with people who build empires before breakfast?"
Abe shrugged. "I can tell you, Miss. I bet the other guests would be more starstruck at seeing a the head of the Roen Group there than you."
I stared down at my hands.
"You’ll be fine."
"I might throw up."
Abe paused. "Don’t wear white, then."
—
The door opened soundlessly. I didn’t need to turn to know it was Luc.
Luc stood in the middle of the room, glancing down at the unopened envelope.
"You’ll go," she said, not unkindly.
I got tense. "I - I didn’t say I wouldn’t-"
"You’ll go," Luc repeated. "You’ll hate it. And you’ll survive it."
So cruel...
I looked at her warily. "I don’t belong there. I don’t know what to say, or how to smile the way they expect—"
"They expect performance," Luc said. "You’re good at that."
"I barely learned how to pretend not to have a breakdown in public. That’s not quite the sa."
"It’s close enough."
Luc circled the desk, brushing her hand once against the envelope. "Wear sothing black. Structured, not soft. You’re not there to be admired - although you will be. You want to look elegant, regal, authoritative."
"I was thinking sothing like... beige?"
Luc stared. "Do you want to look edible?"
I scowled. "No."
"Then no beige."
A silence passed between them.
I hesitated. "Abe said he and Cain would co with ."
"I told them to," Luc said. "They’re blunt objects, but effective ones."
"...And you?" I asked.
Luc’s expression didn’t shift. "I’ve no desire to be stared at like a reawakened relic. This kind of spectacle serves only one purpose - to asure you. Not ."
I bit my lower lip. "It would help... if you were there."
"You’ll manage."
Luc turned and walked out, leaving the envelope gently weighted on the corner of the desk. She seed to be back to being her old, cold self.
I didn’t open the envelope for another hour.
—
Three days later, I sat miserably in the Roen Tower dressing wing while Elune floated about the room like a nervous storm cloud, arms full of fabrics and opinions.
"You know," Elune said, digging through a wardrobe, "this is a pri opportunity. There’s an art to being dazzling. The whole country will be watching. They’ll have lists. Debates. Rankings!"
I slouched in the fitting chair. "Do not rank ."
"I don’t have to," Elune said cheerfully. "The public will."
I buried my face in my hands.
"You’re overthinking it," Elune said. "You’re representing an empire. You’ve endured assassins, coups-"
"And now a dress code," I blurted.
Elune held up two options. "Dramatic capelet or off-shoulde?"
I just blinked. "That’s like asking if I want to die by drowning or fire."
Elune tilted her head. "I’d go with the capelet. It’s more commanding."
"I would look ridiculous either way."
"Oh, hush. You’ll be divine."
I reached for my tea, sighing. "At least Cain and Abe will be there."
There was a beat of silence.
"And the Mistress," Elune said too casually, adjusting the mannequin.
I blinked. "Luc’s coming?"
"I didn’t say she is. I just said she could be. If soone were to convince her."
"Elune, please convince her for ."
Elune clutched a bundle of ribbon to her chest, eyes twinkling. "I’m sure she’d say yes if you asked her yourself."
"I don’t think Luc gets convinced so easily."
"Well, then she can be the security presence. Just tell her you don’t feel safe enough with Cain and Abe alone."
"I wish she’d co... but Luc won’t co to this. She said she doesn’t want to be stared at."
"Which is exactly why she should go! She hates it. That’s how you know it’s important."
Before Lin could respond, the temperature in the room dipped.
The shadows deepened - ever so slightly - and Luc appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
"I am not attending."
Elune gave a nervous laugh. "Mistress! How nice of you to-"
Luc cut her a glare that could unmake cities.
"I am not attending," she said again, this ti more quietly.
"Oh. But Mistress, imagine if soone were to charm Miss Roen away from you."
"Wha-? Elune!" I protested.
"I... don’t own her," Luc cast her gaze away.
"Exactly. But they don’t know that."
Now that Elune made things even harder than it was. All I wanted was Luc to be there because she was... dependable, but Elune was making such a big fuss about it.
Nevertheless... I really was mortified at the thought of attending a social function of this magnitude by myself. Cain probably just stand like a statue the whole ti and I could so imagine Abe wandering off sowhere to enjoy himself.
I had to do it.
"Actually," I finally said, "I... think I’d like it. If you ca."
Luc froze.
"It’d be easier... If you were there."
The room was still.
Luc’s jaw tightened, but her shoulders fell slightly. She looked away. My heart skipped a beat.
"Fine," she said at last.
"Oh, thank you!" I was overjoyed.
"But I’m not dancing."
"Yet," Elune whispered.
Luc shot her a look of utter disdain before turning and leaving as silently as she arrived.
I blinked at the now-empty doorway.
I should be fine.
Or so I thought.
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