Lady Cornelia returned to the Palace after yet another night of festivities. To an untrained eye, it might have seemed like she was simply indulging in the endless pleasures of high society, wasting both her time and her husband's treasury on lavish gatherings.
But in truth, her purpose ran deeper. These banquets, dances, and soirées were not mere indulgence; instead they were tools, weapons even, in her unrelenting campaign to secure her eldest son's future.
Cornelia understood the subtle art of influence. She wasn't there to laugh, drink, or chase fleeting amusement but she was there to plant seeds.
Every hand she clasped, every smile she wore, every toast she raised, all of it was calculated to redirect the noble court's attention away from herself and toward her son.
