Everything felt like a blur for Xandria, and soon it was evening.
Anaya returned to her room to prepare her for dinner. A strange nervousness gripped Xandria's chest. She felt as if the events of the day had unfolded too quickly for her to process. Anaya informed her that the ministers and officials would be present to congratulate the king for finding his bride. All of this, in just one day. Xandria longed for nothing more than to lay down and sleep, to escape from the overwhelming reality that had settled on her like a weight.
She sat in front of the vanity mirror, the reflection unfamiliar and distant. The mirror was far larger than the one she had at home, framed with delicate wood. Different bottles of perfumes and essential oils lined up in neat rows, each one seeming more foreign to her than the last. A small box filled with hair ornaments and accessories sat beside the bottles. Inside the drawer were jewels—earrings, necklaces, everything glinting under the dim light. Makeup products, many of which she had always adored, filled the space.
Anaya stood behind her, gently working through her hair. Her hands moved with practiced ease, her fingers sure and steady. The comb, carved from ivory, parted Xandria's light hair, gliding through the silken strands, while the brush followed with rhythmic strokes, untangling knots with the tenderness of someone who had done this a hundred times before.
Anaya twisted sections of hair into elegant coils, securing them with delicate pins that caught the light. A few soft curls fell by her ears, framing Xandria's face. She didn't speak, her gaze occasionally flickering toward the mirror, silently observing Xandria as she grew quieter with each passing moment.
When Anaya was finished, she placed a silver comb adorned with sapphire just above the braids, a final touch to complement the blue gown with pearls that Xandria was to wear for the dinner. The comb crowned her head with simplicity and elegance, leaving her looking breathtakingly beautiful.
Xandria was ready, though her hands felt clammy, her heart heavy as she stepped toward the door. The weight of what lay ahead seemed even more daunting now. She hesitated, then made her way down the hall toward the dining room.
The doors to the main dining hall opened with a low, echoing creak, and Xandria's breath caught in her throat as she stepped inside. The room was unlike any hall she had ever seen. The ceiling arched high above, adorned with celestial murals that shimmered faintly in the candlelight, as if the stars themselves had come to witness this evening. Rows of golden chandeliers hung like constellations, their crystals catching the light and scattering it across the polished marble floors in fleeting rainbows.
The long dining table stretched farther than she expected, carved from ancient wood and set with gleaming silverware and delicate glass goblets that seemed to hold moonlight. Velvet runners in royal blue and deep crimson flowed down the table, embroidered with the sigil of the kingdom—the crowned stag surrounded by flames. Some whispered that the sigil was a prophecy of a king adorned with fire magic, but no one knew for sure.
High-backed chairs, each with intricate designs of beasts and blooms, lined the sides, though only a few were occupied for now. The ministers, dressed in robes of office, sat in silence, their eyes flickering toward Xandria with curiosity, calculating glances.
At the far end of the table, Maltherion stood tall, his presence commanding. His dark attire only accentuated his power. When his eyes met hers, his expression softened, but the moment was fleeting. He didn't need a crown, not with the firelight casting shadows across his sharp features.
The air in the hall was warm, scented faintly with roasted spices and fresh blossoms. It was a mingling of luxury and power with every breath.
And there she stood, still. Every inch of her filled with awe and dread. This was no longer just a meal—it was a declaration. A beginning.
She was no longer just the court official's daughter. Tonight, before the ministers' eyes, she was being introduced as the queen.
Escorted to her seat beside Maltherion, she curtsied before him, trying to maintain some semblance of humility. If it were just the two of them, she would have never bothered with such formalities. But when she glanced up at him, she caught the smirk on his face, knowing full well why she had curtsied.
The ministers waited for Maltherion to sit, and then for Xandria to follow before they all sat down. Xandria had expected a longer introduction, some time to calm her nerves, but instead, the next sound she heard was the sharp clink of a glass with a spoon. Maltherion had drawn everyone's attention.
"I'm not going to beat around the bush," he announced, his voice clear and commanding. "I've found my wife, your queen."
Cheers erupted around the table, but Xandria sat still, her hands clenched at her sides as she tried to suppress the storm of anger and nerves rising within her. She never wanted this. In the span of a single day, her entire life had shifted, becoming something she couldn't even comprehend.
"She is the daughter of one of the officials in my court," he continued, his gaze shifting toward her, "her name is Alexandria Greystone. And from today onwards, she is the future queen of Alderyn."
Once again, the ministers congratulated them, their words a blur. Then, their attention shifted to her father, seated farther down the table.
"As it is known," Maltherion said, "the Queen's father cannot be a mere official in the court. So, from today onwards, I am promoting Gideon Greystone from a court official to the Duke of Viremont."
The hall erupted into cheers, but Xandria felt a cold knot in her stomach. Viremont. A distant region in Ardelyn, near the mountains, close to the borders. While it was a prestigious position, it also meant her family would be far from the capital—and from her. The distance would make visits difficult, and every moment away from them felt like a new loss.
She clenched her fists, holding back the tears threatening to fall. Taking a sip of her wine, she tried to mask the sadness, though her heart felt heavier with every passing moment.
For the remainder of the dinner, Xandria remained silent, speaking only when someone addressed her. When the meal ended, she quietly left the dining room and returned to her room—the only place in this palace where she could finally be alone.