"If I may ask, why do we need to seduce the royals and marry them?" Andrea, now Straw, asked her brother as they stepped through the towering entrance of the banquet hall.
The doors were tall enough to swallow them whole. Polished gold lined the edges, reflecting candlelight that spilled outward like molten fire. Music drifted from somewhere deep inside, strings and soft percussion blending into a sound that felt heavy with expectation.
"Isn't it obvious, sister?" Duke Pine replied without slowing his steps. "It's for our future heirs, so they can have royal blood and inherit the throne."
Andrea glanced at him, trying to read his expression. He looked confident, very.
"Yours will be the easy one," he continued. "You'll have alone time with the king. I heard he's an easygoing person, unlike his sister, who is quite the opposite. But I intend to succeed. I am going to win."
He turned his head slightly and looked at Straw, his gaze sharp, almost competitive. It felt less like a conversation and more like a challenge, as if an invisible line had been drawn between them. A battle line between twins.
Before they entered the main hall, he stopped and placed both hands on his sister's shoulders. His grip was firm, grounding, as though he were anchoring her in place.
"Sister, whatever it takes, let's make this one time opportunity work," he said. "Let's use it to get close to the royal family. After tonight, our chances will be wasted, and we'll have to try again next year. If it ever occurs."
Straw swallowed. "So we'll go our separate ways," he continued. "By tomorrow, let's make history."
The grand doors opened fully then, revealing the banquet hall in all its excess. Light poured out, swallowing them. Duke Pine released her shoulders and walked ahead without looking back. Within seconds, he disappeared into the crowd of nobles, his presence blending effortlessly among silk and jewels.
Straw stood there for a brief moment, alone. The whole place was lavish and sparkling. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling like constellations trapped in glass. Golden drapes lined the walls. Nobles filled the space, their laughter loud and careless, wine glasses raised as if nothing in the world could ever touch them. Clusters of conversation bloomed and died everywhere she looked.
Food tables stretched across the hall in neat arrangements, overflowing with roasted meats, pastries, fruits, sauces, and desserts that looked almost too perfect to eat, and that was the first place Straw headed to.
As soon as she reached the table, the smells hit her. Warm bread. Sweet glaze. Spices she could not name. Her stomach tightened, and for a moment, the plan she had made in her head about escaping vanished completely.
She picked up a plate, as she started tasting different kinds of food, her thoughts slowed. One bite turned into another. Wine followed soon after. The tension in her shoulders eased as she let herself indulge, even if just for a moment.
It was a buffet. Maids as waitresses stood around the tables, graceful and quiet, helping nobles serve themselves. Their movements were practiced, precise.
Straw filled her plate carefully. As she reached for another dish, a serving maid gently added shrimp to her plate.
Straw froze, she immediately removed it and placed it back on the tray.
"Oh, I don't like shrimp. I have a shellfish allergy."
"I'm sorry, my lady," the maid said quickly, lowering her head.
Straw looked up at her, ready to wave it off, but paused. The maid had a beautiful face. Sharp eyes. Smooth skin. Her purple hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, not a strand out of place. There was something striking about her, something that made Straw hesitate longer than necessary. She smiled at her softly, hoping it eased the maid's worry, then turned back to her plate.
With food and wine in hand, she moved away from the table. She was about to find another spot when voices nearby caught her attention.
"This is just like last year," a noble said, his voice thick with irritation. "The king and the princess never show up to anything. Always hiding behind closed doors in that castle."
"Why throw a birthday banquet if you never show up?" another scoffed, swirling his wine.
"I wonder what they even look like," someone else added. "No one has seen them since the king's coronation. And they both refuse to get married. Every year, they turn down proposals like it's some ritual."
"The king needs to get betrothed and produce a proper heir for this nation," another voice chimed in. "I heard he's a crazy king."
"No," someone replied, leaning in. "I heard the princess is crazier. Just last year, she killed the king's royal advisor for no reason."
"I heard she's a beast. An ugly one," another said with a laugh. "That's why she refuses to get married."
"If not for their royal titles, no one would even get close to them."
The words layered over one another, sharp and careless. Straw stayed where she was, listening. Now holding a Champaign, she lifted her glass and drank. Then drank again. The champagne bubbled faintly on her tongue. She lost count after a while, but she thought it might be her fifth glass already.
She felt tired. Tired of listening. Tired of the noise, But at least she learned one thing. The royals were not showing up. Operation seduce the royals was not going to happen. That realization settled heavily in her chest.
That was when she noticed the purple haired maid standing beside her. She had not been there before. Or maybe Straw had simply not noticed.
The maid stood unnaturally still, her gaze fixed on the group of nobles who were still gossiping. Her expression had changed. The softness from earlier was gone. Her eyes were dark, sharp, filled with something dangerous.
Straw followed her line of sight and noticed the knife in her hand. She was gripping it too tightly. Blood trickled down her fingers, staining the silver blade and dripping onto the floor.
"Miss, you're bleeding," Straw said, stepping closer and tapping her gently on the arm. The maid flinched.
Her expression shifted instantly, as if a mask had snapped back into place. She looked down, startled, and released the knife. It clattered softly against the table.
Seeing how much blood there was, Straw reacted without thinking. She grabbed a table napkin and wrapped it around the maid's hand, pressing firmly.
"I… I'm fine, my lady. It's okay," the maid said, her voice unsteady.
"No, it's not fine," Straw replied. "You're bleeding. If it's not attended to, it will cause an infection. Infection leads to sickness, and sickness leads to death." She paused, looking at the maid's face. "That would be terrible," she added more gently. "You're too pretty to die." The maid stared at her.
After the bleeding slowed, Straw guided her away from the noise, leading her into a quieter corner of the hall, partially hidden by tall columns and curtains.
"Are you a fan of the king or the princess?" Straw asked, lowering her voice.
"What do you mean?" the maid replied.
"Well," Straw said, glancing back toward the nobles, "the way you were holding that knife. It looked like you wanted to slit the throats of those people gossiping about the royal family." She shrugged lightly.
"You shouldn't take what they say to heart. They're just side characters. Their role is to talk nonsense in the background and think it makes sense."
The maid watched her closely. "What about you?" she asked. "Do you think what they said about the royal family is true?"
Straw considered the question. "I don't think so," she said honestly. "I haven't met them. Neither have they. So they don't know what's really going on." She took a breath.
"I believe everyone has a reason for being the way they are. If the king and the princess don't show up to the banquet, it could be for personal reasons."
The maid hesitated before speaking again.
"Do you think the princess is a beast?" she asked softly. "Ugly?"
Straw blinked, surprised. "There's no such thing as ugly," she said. "Everyone has something special about them. That's what makes them beautiful."
She smiled faintly. "Looks matter, sure. I fell for looks... but I've recently learned that before judging appearances, you have to look inside first. Sometimes the inside is uglier than the outside."
As Straw spoke, the maid kept staring at her.
Her gaze was intense, searching, almost hungry. Straw did not notice her staring and before she could, the maid leaned forward.
Her lips pressed against Straw's. And that moment Straw became somebody's obsession.