Ligia walked to the table with steady steps. The soft sound of her heels echoed through the hall, contrasting with the gentle clinking of silverware and the muffled laughter of Clarisse.
Selène noticed her presence before a word was spoken. She turned smoothly and smiled, one of those smiles that warm you to the bone, without pretense. Pure. Unconditional.
"Good morning, my love"
The voice was melancholic and tender, like a harp playing at dawn.
Ligia responded with a smile that began in her eyes before reaching her lips. She bent to hug her mother, an automatic gesture long awaited. Selène held her tightly. Her hand slid across her daughter's back with a calmness that felt almost ceremonial.
"You've grown so much... and even more beautiful" she murmured, stroking her hair.
Clarisse, fingers sticky with strawberry and cheeks rosy, leaned from her mother's lap and gave Ligia a loud kiss on the cheek.
"Mwah! Mana's back!"
"I'm back, I am!" said Ligia, smiling with her eyes closed. "And you're even cuter... That's a spell, right?"
She tousled her little sister's platinum hair, drawing a light giggle that sounded like windchimes.
Selène watched silently. Her eyes glowed with pride and perhaps that trace of guilt only powerful mothers know how to carry.
After biting into a fruit and planting another kiss on her sister's forehead, Ligia turned back to Selène.
"You haven't told me the details... was the trip peaceful?"
Selène leaned back, touching her necklace as if it still carried echoes of recent events.
"I went to House Caelthur, as I imagined you already knew"
Ligia nodded.
"The East is... unsettled"
Her mother's voice was measured, every word chosen with care.
"The politics among the Ancient Houses are more fragile than they seem. Some... family wounds have reopened"
"Grandfather still clinging to that vision of bloodline magic?"
"More rigid than ever"
For a moment, Selène's eyes seemed to drift to another era
"He still disapproves of my marriage to your father"
Ligia raised an eyebrow
"And does he know you're the one in charge here?"
Selène let out a soft laugh
"He knows. And hates it. But pretends otherwise"
Clarisse, unaware of the weight of the conversation, poked at her mother's necklace with fascination.
"That's why" Selène said gently
"They won't be present at your presentation as heiress. Not my brothers. Not my cousin. No one from House Caelthur"
Ligia took a deep breath and nestled her sister back into their mother's lap
"I figured"
Selène touched her arm
"Don't think it's disdain. You are the pride of my life. But... some roots prefer to die dry than bend to the wind of the present"
Ligia smiled tenderly
"It's okay. I have what I need here"
She looked at her little sister, who was now gripping her hand with tiny fingers. Then to her mother. And finally, to the two men by the window. Still speaking in deep whispers — but present.
Family.
United, despite the ghosts.
Present, even in absence.
And with that in her chest... Ligia felt more ready than ever.
After breakfast, the soft morning light poured through the crystal windows of the north hall, painting the floor with golden and silver reflections. Outside, the gardens seemed to sing in silence. Flowers danced in the wind, and the sound of fountains brought freshness to the air.
Ligia sat before a small tea table, hands around a cup of jasmine still steaming. Beside her, in a high-backed armchair, Selène observed the landscape with the posture of a queen at rest, though her eyes, always sharp, were on her daughter.
"So..." said Selène, with a gentle smile
"Are you ready for your presentation as heir of House d'Argêntea?"
Ligia set the cup down carefully, crossing her legs with ease. The dress, though elegant, squeezed more than she liked. The corset made every sigh beg for comfortable fashion.
"It'll be fine. With the Caelthurs out, I only have to face four Ducal Houses and the Royal Family. No scandals, no existential crisis. Just a 'hello, I exist, respect me' and done"
Selène chuckled softly
"So serene. You got that from me. Clearly"
Ligia smiled
"Better that than father's stoicism. If I inherited his funeral face, no one would believe me if I smiled"
Selène had to stifle a laugh. She was about to reply — but then they heard a sharp click.
"Click"
Ligia's eyes widened. A thought struck like lightning.
She stood abruptly. The chair creaked.
"Wait here a second!"
"Ligia? What—?"
But it was too late. The door opened and the young woman disappeared down the hallway like a perfume-scented arrow full of ideas.
Selène blinked. Then laughed to herself.
"Clearly didn't inherit all my calm"
Minutes later, hurried footsteps echoed over the marble.
Ligia returned — hair slightly disheveled, chest heaving... and arms full.
A pile of papers. Sketches. Drawings. All crumpled just enough to show they were made with soul.
Selène raised an eyebrow, intrigued
"What are those papers, my love?"
Ligia flopped onto the carpet with all the elegance the corset allowed.
"During confinement... I sketched. Outfits. Clothes I'd actually wear. Nothing against tradition, but... this?"
She discreetly tugged at the corset
"Is not me"
Carefully, she spread the pages on the floor like she was reading her own future.
"Wanna see?"
Selène hesitated — but only for a moment.
She stepped down from the chair with grace and sat beside her daughter.
She picked up the first page.
And froze.
The dress drawn was bold. An oversized coat with a wide belt, high collar, asymmetrical skirt. Modern fabric. Hybrid design. And beside it, a sketch of sneakers with silver buckles.
The second page: a baggy hoodie with a deep hood, loose pants with double pockets.
The third... a black dress. Off-shoulder. Side slit. No corset. Minimalist. Deadly.
Selène ran her fingers over a page that read:
"Inspired by how I feel when everyone looks, but no one sees who I am"
She inhaled slowly. Touched her daughter's shoulder.
"Ligia... you're good at this"
"I just want clothes that don't make me feel like a museum piece"
Selène turned the pages. Straight-cut dresses. Technological fabrics. Hints of armor. Elegant slits. Nothing vulgar. All powerful.
"You have style. And more than that... you have a voice"
Ligia let out a small laugh.
Selène met her eyes, sparkling
"Have you thought about presenting one of these at the event?"
Ligia's heart nearly leapt out of her chest
"You... you're serious?"
"Maybe I'm teasing. But think: if you want to be remembered, don't be just another one. Show all the Houses — and the Court — that you didn't come just to carry a name. You came to shape it"
Ligia looked at the sketches.
She ran her fingers over one page.
"Maybe... it's time to show who I am"
Selène touched the drawing, her smile full of pride
"Then let's have it made"