"I don't recall you asking me to wake you," Ray remarked.
"I didn't," Rui murmured.
"Exactly."
"I hardly realized when you dozed off," he went on.
"But you should've! Because of you, I missed the ceremony," she protested, eyes welling up.
"Who told you it's over?" he said with a quiet laugh.
"It isn't?" she sniffed.
"How could it be, when it hasn't begun yet?" he assured gently.
"But it'll begin once we head downstairs," said Grace, standing beside the bed with her arms folded.
Rui turned and quickly hugged her. "Sister! How long have you been there? I didn't even notice."
"Long before you two started talking," Grace replied, brushing a hand through Rui's hair.
"The guests have already arrived. We should go now," she added kindly.
Both children exchanged a grin and said together, "As you say, Queen."
Grace blinked in mild surprise, then smiled. "I may be a Queen to others, but to you two, I'm just your sister."
She pulled Ray into the hug and said softly, "Just call me sister, alright?"
"Affirmative, sister!" they chimed in unison.
Grace chuckled and gently patted their heads.
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They walked to the door, and as Grace opened it—
"Ahh" she yelped, startled as if she'd seen a ghost. Both children let out short gasps of surprise.
"Welfred! You scared the—" Grace stopped herself, glancing at the kids, then continued, "You scared us! Why were you standing at the door like that?"
"My apologies, madame," Welfred said quickly. "I didn't mean to startle you. I came to escort you downstairs— everyone in the hall has been asking for you."
"I was about to knock, but you opened the door first."
The man looked to be middle-aged somewhere around his fifties, though his refined attire and neatly swept-back hair made him appear younger, perhaps in his forties. His face was pale, composed, and nearly devoid of expression.
He wore a classic three-piece suit, a grey waistcoat, and a crisp white shirt fastened with a bow tie that added touch of elegance. A folded white pocket, completing his polished appearance.
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"Don't worry, we were already on our way," Grace assured him.
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As they strolled down the hallway, Grace looked over with a teasing smile. "So, Welfred... you never really 'move' your face, do you? Is it because you think it'll make you look older— or have you just forgotten how to smile?"
"Madam," Welfred said solemnly, "As I've mentioned before, I am quite aged. My skin has stretched and wrinkled enough as it is. If I start showing expressions, I might end up looking like an old man."
"(But you are an old man)," all three thought at once.
He straightened his posture proudly. "However, madam, I do know how to smile."
With that, he turned toward them and flashed the most awkward, toothy grin imaginable— lips twitching, eyes wide, looking like a haunted portrait trying to be friendly.
Grace froze. The kids blinked.
"Ahaha..." Grace laughed weakly, then whispered under her breath, "Right... maybe don't do that again."
Welfred turned around and resumed his usual blank expression.
The children exhaled in relief, whispering to each other, "That smile's gonna haunt my dreams."
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They stood near the grand staircase overlooking the vast hall below, watching the sea of people gathered within.
The Crown Hall was enormous— clearly built for occasions of grandeur like this. Even with more than a thousand guests filling it, the place still felt only half occupied, it's scale almost overwhelming.
Along both sides of the hall were several grand entrances framed with ornate carvings. A red carpet, bordered with golden embroidery, stretched from top of the grand staircase— where Grace and the others stood— down to the foot of the stairs, leading directly to the three thrones.
Two platforms surrounded the thrones: the higher one for the nobles and royal guards of highest order, and the lower for those just beneath them in rank.
Royal guards stood in pairs along the carpet at a regular intervals of five meters, their gleaming armour reflecting the warm glow of the hall's lights.
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Grace gazed at the crowd, her mind elsewhere.
"Madam, you'll be needing this," Welfred reminded her, his tone courteous yet firm.
He motioned to the manservant beside him. "Bring it out."
At once, the servant complied, revealing a royal cape from the velvet-lined bag.
The cape was a masterpiece of craftmanship, woven from a smooth fabric of pale cream that caught the light with a soft, dignified sheen. The material, heavy yet elegant, draped in refined folds that spoke of luxury and tradition.
It was secured beneath the ornate golden shoulder armor, allowing it to fall in a natural, commanding flow along the back and sides. Every moment lent it a quiet grace, as though it obeyed ceremony itself.
Reaching nearly to the ground, the cape embodied grandeur and nobility— an emblem of rank and royal bearing.
Grace's fingers glided over the cape's smooth folds, the fabric cool and weighty beneath her touch. The sensation awakened a soft, distant memory.
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{ "Father, is this the ceremonial cape you wore at your coronation?"
"Yes, it is," hereplied, his voice calm, steady— just as she remembered it.
"Can I wear it for mine too?" she asked, her tone bright with hope.
"I'm afraid not, my dear," he said gently. "Each ruler must choose their own. The cape is not just an attire but a symbol— a way for the new sovereign to represent themselves. Each heir's cape is different, just as they are."
Gracewentsilent,hergazelingeringontheelegantdrapeofthegarment.
"Then..." she whispered, "whenIbecomequeen,I'llhaveonejustlikethis.It'ssobeautiful... }
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"So... beautiful..." she breathed, her voice soft and distant, her hand still tracing over the cape as if unwilling to let go.
"It'sjust how I wanted it. Thank you, Welfred," she said with a faint smile.
"The pleasure is mine, madam, yet it is the craftsmen who are truly worth of praise."
"Then I shall express my gratitude to them after the ceremony."
"Madam, if you will stand here for a moment," Welfredsaidwithaslightbow.
Grace stepped forward and stood before Welfred. With careful precision, he draped the cape over her shoulders.
Welfred stepped back a few places to take in the sight of Grace.
"So, how do I look?" sheasked, standing tall and composed.
For a moment, Welfred only stared— her posture, the poise in her voice, the way the cape fell around her shoulders— it all reminded him of someone. "Master Vic—" he began, then stopped himself.
"What's wrong?" Grace asked, noticing the distant look in his eyes.
"Oh, it's nothing, madam," he said quickly, regaining his composure. "You look... truly splendid."
After a moment's silence, Welfred spoke again, his voice gentle. "Madam, you've grown quite a lot." His eyes lingered on her, softened by memory— seeing not the queen before him, but the child she once was.
"Naturally. I'm twenty-one now," Grace said, smiling warmly at Welfred.
"That you are," Welfredreplied withafaintaffectionatesmile."Yet to me, you'll always be the little girl I once knew."
"So you can smile after all," Grace,Rui and Ray, murmured together, their quiet voices carrying a hint of playful surprise.
"So then, shall we proceed?" Grace asked, her gaze sweeping over the children before settling on Welfred.
"Forgive me, madam, but I cannot accompany you," Welfred said.
"What? And why not?" Grace asked, her brows lifting slightly.
"Only you and these two young ones are permitted to tread upon the royal carpet," Welfred replied, gently brushing his hand over Rui and Ray's heads. "Even members of other royal houses are forbidden to set foot upon it— myself included."
"You do realize I care little for such customs," Grace said quietly.
"But I do, madam," he answered, his tone steady yet respectful.
"Very well, as you wish," she conceded with a sigh. "But then, how will you handle the announcements?"
"I shall take a separate passage to reach the hall," Welfred replied."Now, if you will excuse me." With a courteous bow, he turned and took his leave.
"Then we should make our way down as well, shall we?"Grace said turning to the children.
"Okay," they replied together, each taking hold of one of her hands.