[Flashback ~ A Few Years Ago]
A three-and-a-half-year-old Evelyn stood silently outside the grand doors of the Empress's chamber. Her tiny fingers clutched a small wooden toy soldier—something she had picked out herself. A gift. For her mother.
She had waited there for hours.
The corridor was cold, the palace silent, and still—she stood, hopeful.
But the doors never opened.
Instead, a maid stepped out, her tone clipped and cold.
"Her Majesty doesn't wish to see anyone."
Not even her daughter.
She clutched the toy soldier tightly in her small hand. She turned away, her steps quiet.
Later that night, she threw it into the fireplace.
And didn't look back.
———
Now, the seven-year-old her stood in front of the mirror, calm and composed as the girls fluttered around her in preparation for a banquet she had never dreamed of being invited to.
But she is no longer that abandoned child.
She no longer cares about the so-called mother's affection anymore.
Time passed like wind slipping through fingers, and soon—
It was the day of the birthday banquet.
The Day of the Banquet – Early Morning
The sun hadn't yet risen fully when Cassy and the others burst into Evelyn's room, bright-eyed and brimming with excitement.
they came armed with many neatly folded fabrics, brushes, and ribbons. Lora opened the curtains wide, letting golden morning light spill into the room.
Blanketed in warmth and sleep, Evelyn rubbed her eyes, blinking at the sudden commotion.
Her voice was dry and half-asleep.
Evelyn: "The banquet starts in the evening… Why are you waking me when even the rooster's still asleep?"
Cassy put her hands on her hips, as serious as a commander preparing for battle.
Cassy: "Because we have to start early if we want you to be the most breathtaking person in that hall."
Evelyn: "Seriously?"
Cassy: "Get up quickly, Your Highness. We need to prepare you. Hurry!"
Evelyn groaned, pulling the covers tighter around her.
Evelyn: "I'm not getting up."
But Cassy was determined. She reached out and gently pulled Evelyn upright—leaving no room for negotiation.
Evelyn stumbled upright, still half-asleep, her hair a tousled mess of soft curls.
Evelyn: "You're cruel... I shouldn't have accepted that invitation."
Cassy: "Too late. Let's begin."
At that moment, Melinda appeared at the door, balancing a tray with warm tea and honeyed rolls.
Melinda: "First, let her eat something. She'll need strength to survive what's coming."
Lora chuckled from across the room.
Lora: "And by 'what's coming,' she means Cassy in full stylist mode."
Cassy: "You say that like it's a bad thing."
She was already rifling through the gowns laid out across the room like an artist facing a blank canvas. Fabrics shimmered—sapphire, black, white—each one chosen with painstaking care the night before.
Cassy: "We'll start with a bath. Then your dresd, then hair. We don't have a minute to waste."
Evelyn: "I feel like a doll being prepared for display…"
Ella, brushing through strands of ribbons and hairpins, looked up with a smile.
Ella: "A very important doll. One who's about to show the entire palace what true elegance looks like."
Lily: "We've narrowed it down to three dress options—but we may need to try all of them. Just in case."
Evelyn: "You all act like I'm getting married, not attending a banquet."
Lily: "With how radiant you'll look, people might start proposing."
Evelyn: "Please. I haven't even eaten yet."
Cassy: "There's no time. Eat later."
Cassy gently guided Evelyn to the chair by the vanity while the others swarmed the room like a cheerful storm. Ribbons, pins, brushes, and fabric seemed to fly in all directions, each girl handling a task with the intensity of a sacred mission.
Cassy: "Sit. Let us make a goddess out of you."
Evelyn: "I'm fine as a mortal."
Lily: "Too late. You belong to us now."
Evelyn: "Fine. Let's get it over with."
Evelyn sighed, finally relenting, allowing them to work their magic. At that, the room lit up again with motion and chatter. Brushes were readied, fabrics unfolded, and shoes compared. The excitement returned, swirling like warm wind through every corner.
As the morning light slowly crept through the windows, laughter echoed through the halls.
They truly spent the entire day preparing her.
By evening—
Cassy and the others had finally completed Evelyn's look. She wore an elegant white dress laced with black accents, the fabric shimmering with scattered black crystals. Her accessories matched perfectly—white earrings set with black sapphires and a delicate necklace that mirrored their design. Her hair was left down, cascading in soft waves, adorned with fine hair ornaments that sparkled under the light. On her feet were crystal-like shoes—white with sleek black patterns curling at the edges.
Lily: "You look absolutely gorgeous, Your Highness."
Melinda: "No one will be able to take their eyes off you."
Evelyn offered a small, quiet smile.
Evelyn: "Thanks."
She stood from her seat and smoothed the hem of her gown.
Evelyn: "Well then… I should go."
She exited the room gracefully, escorted by Gerald.
———
At the Palace Banquet—
The grand hall buzzed with life. Gilded chandeliers cast warm golden light over nobles in silk and velvet. Wine flowed like rivers. Polished words clashed like blades in the air. Some mingled politely, some whispered with hidden agendas, and others laughed a little too loudly.
Then the sound of the Royal Herald's voice rang out across the hall.
Royal Herald: "Her Highness, the First Star of Cristiane, Princess Evelyn de P. La Cristiane, now enters."
All eyes turned toward the grand entrance.
Evelyn stepped through the towering doors.
The hall quieted, and then—
A low hum of whispers began to stir.
"Is that the first princess?"
"I heard she never attends any banquets—what's she doing here?"
"It's not that she doesn't attend... No one ever invites her."
"They say she's cruel and temperamental. Treats her maids terribly."
"Didn't she suffer an accident a few months ago? I heard she's been... strange since hitting her head."
Evelyn paid no attention to the whispers.
With quiet grace, she entered the banquet hall, her steps calm, unhurried. She found herself a quiet corner away from the bustle, picked up a glass of chilled fruit juice, and sipped it, unbothered by the stares or murmurs swirling around her.
Because honestly, she didn't care.