Chapter 2: The Moonlit Apology
The moonlight spilled like silver silk across the polished marble floor of Princess Eleonaria's chamber. The once-vibrant glow in her eyes had dimmed, replaced with the heavy burden of shame. Her heartbeat, which earlier had galloped like a wild stallion beneath her ribs, now quieted to a solemn murmur.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror—her cheeks still flushed with the remnants of unbridled emotion. How could I have lost control like that…? A crown did not excuse foolishness, and tonight, the crown princess had nearly acted on an impulse unbecoming of her title.
"Sun-hee," she whispered.
"Yes, Your Highness?" The loyal maid stepped closer with worried eyes, having stood quietly by the door for the past half-hour.
"Prepare my gown. I'm returning to the banquet."
Sun-hee blinked in surprise. "Now? But—"
"I must face what I have done. I will not run from shame. Not tonight."
The grand hallway was still alive with music and golden laughter, yet the moment Princess Eleonaria reentered, all conversation ceased. Her steps echoed like judgments across the palace floor. Whispers trailed her like smoke.
"What happened to her?"
"She was gone for quite a while…"
"Her hair's a mess… was she crying?"
"Did something happen with that knight—what was his name? Hyun-woo?"
Eleonaria ignored them all. Her violet eyes, now resolute, scanned the ballroom with a quiet desperation. She spotted him standing near the edge of the room, speaking with a few lower noblemen. The knight—Hyun-woo—still donned his pristine ceremonial armor, silver cape flowing like the morning mist. He was distant, unknowable, like the last star before dawn.
She strode forward.
"Sir Hyun-woo."
He turned.
Their eyes met.
Before the room full of nobles, generals, and even her father, she lowered her head slightly and said, "I… wish to apologize. For earlier. It was unbecoming of a princess."
Gasps rippled through the air like a sudden storm.
The arrogant, icy flower of the Loongjue Empire—apologizing? It was unheard of.
The King himself, seated on the dais, narrowed his eyes in disbelief. Eleonaria had always been proud, impossible to bend. Yet now, before them all, she bowed her pride.
Hyun-woo studied her with unreadable eyes.
"I accept your apology, Your Highness," he replied softly, voice like quiet steel.
A hush fell, followed by applause, polite but stunned. Yet none could deny the elegance of the moment.
Moments later, the King stood to give his annual address.
"Our empire faces a crisis. The number of knights applying to the Academy has declined. We need protectors… defenders of our realm. We must nurture true talent."
His words were a prelude to the evening's true highlight—the ceremonial waltz.
The orchestra began to play a soft melody.
All eyes turned toward Eleonaria.
She took a deep breath.
Then she turned to Hyun-woo. "Would you grant me this dance… as part of my apology?"
Hyun-woo hesitated. Then, with a gentle nod, he extended his gloved hand.
She placed hers in his.
As they began to dance, the ballroom shimmered with candlelight. Eleonaria moved gracefully, every turn and sway rehearsed through years of royal tutelage. But tonight, it wasn't grace that captured hearts.
It was the sincerity in her eyes.
The vulnerability in her smile.
Hyun-woo had not planned to be impressed. Yet something about the way she winced—barely—when her high heels pinched her feet… how she still held herself with dignity, never breaking posture… it made her seem oddly human.
Strangely beautiful.
"Your Highness," he said, quietly. "You're trembling."
"I suppose even roses shiver in the wind," she replied, forcing a small laugh.
The nobles watched, breathless.
And when she smiled fully—truly—many of them gasped aloud. A few younger nobles clutched their chests, overwhelmed. One even fainted. Even the King wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
"My daughter," he murmured, "is finally blooming."
After the dance, as they stepped aside for the next couple, Eleonaria turned to Hyun-woo again.
"I... thank you," she whispered. "For treating me not as a crown, but as a person."
He said nothing at first. But then, with a rare softness, he offered, "The moon shines brightest when it reflects another's light."
Their moment was broken as the King raised his goblet once more.
"Tonight, our princess celebrates her twentieth year! And thus, tomorrow… shall mark her Gift Awakening Ceremony!"
A loud cheer followed.
But everyone knew what that meant.
In the Loongjue Empire, your Gift determined your fate. Wealth, status, and even survival depended upon it. Some received elemental powers, others martial strength… and a few—very few—received nothing at all.
"Let us pray," the King continued, "that the stars bestow favor upon her."
Eleonaria bowed deeply.
Her heart beat faster.
She had waited twenty years for this.
Then the King added, "And let us also remember… that tomorrow's ceremony is held only once a year. Miss it, and your chance is gone forever."
All eyes turned toward her once more.
But Eleonaria smiled, calm and determined.
"I will not miss it."
The night ended in roaring cheers and fluttering curtains.
Eleonaria returned to her chamber, removed her shoes, and collapsed onto her bed, the silk covers swallowing her whole. The moon had shifted behind clouds now, but a peaceful silence remained.
"Sun-hee," she whispered in the darkness.
"Yes, Your Highness?" came the soft reply.
"…He smiled at me."
Sun-hee blinked. "…Who?"
Eleonaria closed her eyes.
"No one."
And then, sleep claimed her.
Tomorrow would change everything.