The sound of "VICTORY" flashed on the screen with triumphant echoes.
Luna leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs while letting out a triumphant sigh.
"I climbed to Master... finally," she murmured, with a small smile of satisfaction. "Smurfing in diamond like it was bronze..."
Her account displayed the silver shield with golden wings.
She stayed for a moment admiring her progress, but like any modern goddess worth her salt, she didn't have much time to celebrate.
One of the mansion's servants appeared discreetly at the bedroom door. "Miss Luna, stylist Liyto has just arrived. He is waiting in the mirror room."
Luna raised an eyebrow.
"Already?" She looked at the clock in the corner of the screen. "Ah… the gala. Damn."
She stood up, stretching her arms and sighing as if the world demanded too much from her, even though she was, technically, one of the most privileged people on Earth.
Still... socializing was more work than a solo queue ranked match.
She walked to the mirror room, a whole wing of the mansion with smart glass panels, voice-controlled lighting, and a minibar exclusively with teas and French wines.
That was when the door slammed open.
"MON DIEU! HERRE!"
The stylist entered spinning on his own axis, with a tablet in one hand, and an absurdly long scarf in the other. His pure white painted hair was tied in a side bun that seemed to defy gravity. He wore a black silk shirt with golden buttons and wide tailored pants with polished amethyst-colored leather shoes.
"You are more beautiful than they told me, more radiant than the dawn and more unfair than any beauty standard ever created by humanity!" Liyto exclaimed dramatically, pointing his finger at Luna.
Luna simply sighed and made a "V" with her fingers, with a lazy smile.
"Let's go, Liyto. I don't have all night... even if the night has me."
"I WAS BORN FOR THIS!" he shouted, spinning.
Liyto activated the mirror's artificial intelligence, pulling up several holograms with dresses, makeup, hairstyles, and jewelry. He started speaking at rocket speed, gesturing like a conductor handling a symphony of lasers and digital fabrics:
"We have the onyx option with a slit up to the spirit! Or the royal satin option in lust red! Maybe something futuristic with holographic shoulder pads?! Ah, maybe a high bun with gemstones? Or... bioluminescent glitter that reacts to your emotion!?"
Luna looked at him with that blasé air. Then she spoke. "I already chose my dress. It arrived this afternoon. It's white. From Maison Lévêque, limited edition. Oh, and I won't wear makeup. Just the gloss I like."
Liyto stopped pacing. And took a deep breath.
"You're telling me... you want to wear a white dress... and NONE of my thirty-seven concepts created in three days?"
"Uh-huh."
"And no makeup?"
"Just strawberry gloss. It has shine."
He dropped to his knees. Literally.
Hands over his chest as if stabbed existentially.
"SHE IS A PERFECT AESTHETIC CHAOS. HOW CAN I ADD BEAUTY TO THIS WITHOUT COMMITTING A CRIME AGAINST ART?"
"Liyto…" Luna went to him, bent slightly and touched his shoulder. "You're going to be the first stylist in history paid to do almost nothing and still receive applause. Breathe."
He let out a muffled squeal, wiping a dramatic tear with a handkerchief embroidered with his own silhouette.
Minutes later, with Liyto resigned to just discreetly adjusting the dress seam, and nothing more—, Luna left the closet as if she had descended from a cloud.
The white dress from Maison Lévêque was an ethereal masterpiece. Pure silk fabric with slight transparency on the long sleeves, a cinched waist with discreet crystals, a light train with silver embroidery drawing constellations on the fabric.
She wore silver heels with thin straps intertwining up to mid-calf, and a necklace with a single dangling black pearl.
The hair? Loose, with slight natural waves. And, of course, lips shining with her strawberry gloss.
Liyto murmured. "Looks like the whole Gala will need therapy after seeing you."
Luna blinked. "Maybe I should open a clinic after the gala. Could call it the Beauty Side Effect."
Liyto just sighed with a defeated smile.
While Luna grabbed the minimalist white clutch from the shelf and typed something on her phone, probably replying to one of the three thousand unread messages from CEOs, politicians, and nobles, the world was already about to lose balance.
—On the other side of New York—
The main hall of the most prestigious hotel in New York was an explosion of gold, marble, crystals, and polished voices in multiple languages. Titanium chandeliers plated in gold hung from the ceiling like galaxies frozen in time, casting their light over the most influential in the world: nobles, CEOs, diplomats, heirs, models, actors, and every kind of creature living at the top of the social food chain.
Lumine stood out even among them.
Tall, slender, owner of a serene and glacial beauty, she wore a crimson red dress with silver embroidery and rubies delicately sewn along the bodice, as if each stitch told the story of a dynasty that defied centuries. Her black velvet-like hair was loose in perfect waves down to her waist. The pale, almost ethereal skin was the perfect contrast against the lips stained dark wine.
And the eyes…
Ah, the icy blue eyes, that seemed stolen from a silent Scandinavian winter, watched everyone in the hall like a queen analyzing possible pieces on a chessboard.
By her side was Arthur von Edelweiss, her older brother, direct heir of the Edelweiss House and one of the most feared and admired men in the hidden political scene. He was like a solar version of Lumine: blue eyes, yes, but with fiery intensity; black hair cut with military precision, an imperial-cut suit with embroidered details on the cuff, the Edelweiss crest in discreet silver.
Arthur drank champagne calmly, but his eyes scanned the hall like sensors, catching conversations, alliances, betrayals, and fake smiles. In the distance, groups of nobles laughed, toasted, and whispered, each with their hidden agenda.
" You should talk more tonight," Arthur said naturally, without taking his eyes off a group of Asian dukes laughing near the wine table. "Father is... analyzing candidates."
Lumine almost choked delicately on her glass. "Candidates?"
Arthur finally looked at her. "He wants to marry you off to a global noble."
A young Edelweiss snorted, crossing her arms elegantly. The dress, despite being tight, seemed tailor-made for the aristocrat's silent indignation gestures. "So now my life is a bargaining chip among old geezers?"
Arthur smiled with a corner of his lips.
"Technically... it always was. But you always had more claws than the other debutantes."
"Thanks, I guess," said Lumine, turning her gaze to the velvet tables and shadows of political alliances being sewn in silence.
She thought about Victória.
About the arranged marriage her friend considered a prison with gala decoration.
Thought about Victória's frustration, about the contempt for that "idiot fiancé" who spent more time flattering nobles than talking to her.
"I won't accept that, Arthur. I won't end up married to a useless diplomat just because someone thinks it will 'unify powers'. My life... is mine." The answer was firm, yet sweet, like ice that cuts without needing to raise its voice.
Arthur didn't reply immediately. But his smile grew wider, more sincere. Something rare.
He swirled the glass silently, watching the golden liquid shimmer under the hall's lights. Then he spoke. "And I would never allow my favorite little sister to be sold like a bracelet at auction."
"You say that now," she retorted, suspicious.
"I've said that forever," Arthur replied, touching her shoulder with an almost paternal gesture.
Lumine's eyes widened, not expecting that statement. For a second, the ice inside them melted.
"You are Edelweiss, Lumine. You're icy on the outside, but don't let anyone decide for you. And if dad tries to force anything... I swear, I'll grab the contract, tear it into pieces, and still rub it in his face at Sunday dinner."
Lumine let out a muffled laugh, her eyes watering. She tried to disguise it, after all, tears in public? Unacceptable.
But Arthur saw.
She sniffled discreetly and hugged him, her arms closing around her brother stronger than she intended.
"Thank you, Arthur..."
"I'll always be by your side, snow doll," he said, kissing the top of her head.
It was rare. Very rare.
But there, in the middle of a hall full of rotten interests, golden masks, and hollow alliances, a single true bond pulsed like a shooting star in the dark.
Lumine stepped back a little, regaining her glacial posture. She wiped her eyes discreetly with the back of her hand and adjusted her hair. "You're still an idiot, you know?"
"Yes. But I'm your favorite idiot."
She laughed, and for the first time that night, her smile wasn't protocol.
The conversations around became a symphony of veiled voices, negotiations disguised as compliments, and threats wrapped in champagne toasts.
Lumine looked around, resting her crystal glass on the edge of the cushioned sofa. Her icy blue eyes scanned the hall like sensors programmed to scan... suitors.
'Let's see if there's any tolerable idiot here,' she thought, amused.
Her gaze landed on a noble with Latin features, a perfectly tailored suit, confident posture.
Good looking? Yes.
Marquis title? Yes.
Smirk of someone who thinks they've already conquered you just by existing? Yes.
Three divorces, two public scandals, and a history of flirting with maids from his own house? Also yes.
Next.
She slid her gaze to an American businessman — CEO of the largest private air transport network in America.
A technology titan. Not bad.
Good market reputation, zero scandals.
But... he was the personification of an emotional microwave.
Rigid, no sense of humor, seemed to think a "romantic date" included Excel spreadsheets and prenuptial contracts reviewed by AI.
Next.
A prince from Southeast Asia, charming, elegant, long hair tied in a bun.
Excellent genetics, beautiful oratory, smelled too good.
But... three brides in three different countries. None knows about the other.
"These men need a basic ethics course," she murmured, bored.
Arthur noticed his sister's constant eye movement. "Cross-referencing data?"
"Hunting rare specimens, brother," she replied without looking.
"Be careful. Even in this hall, there are wolves with gold ties."
"You raised me well. I can recognize wolves... and pigs dressed as wolves."
Arthur laughed. "Just don't bite anyone. Yet."
Lumine smiled at the corner of her mouth, but her gaze was sucked by something, or better, someone, on the other side of the hall. Her eyes narrowed.
Nikoly.
Nikoly stood near the black glass bar, analyzing the environment with the coldness of a Japanese espionage AI.
Unlike the extravagance of other nobles, Nikoly wore a minimalist black outfit with fine golden details on the cuffs and waist, as if saying: "I can dominate this hall without needing to shout."
Short, slender, almost translucent porcelain skin, long straight black hair flowing down her back like fresh ink. The eyes? An abyss. Black, deep, unfathomable. She didn't smile — didn't need to. Her presence already said: "Don't try to decipher. Just observe."
Lumine gave a little smirk.
"That's my cue... I'm going to greet someone," she told Arthur, adjusting her dress.
"Be careful. Eyes crawl through this room like cockroaches," he warned, raising his glass in a warning gesture.
Lumine followed her brother's gaze.
Indeed, some older men, and even some young ones, watched her with hungry eyes, as if her red dress was an invitation to decadence.
One even licked his lips when their eyes met.
She made a point to look at him coldly, raise an eyebrow with disdain, and turn her face away, as if he was a moldy wall in a public bathroom.
'Idiots.'
Skillfully avoiding the stares, Lumine walked like a winter feline. The dress fluttered in red waves around her legs, and the heels clicked on the marble floor like the gong of elegance.
As she approached Nikoly, her eyes lit with an idea.
Lumine smiled... and jumped. "Boo!"
"AH!" Nikoly gave a slight jump, turning her face with wide eyes for a second.
"My God, Lumine!" she said in a low but clearly genuine tone. Her eyes soon returned to normal, but there was still a playful indignant sparkle in them.
Lumine laughed heartily. "You should've seen your face. If you were a ninja, you'd be dead."
"I am a ninja. I was just in energy-saving mode," Nikoly replied in that serious tone.
Lumine shook her head. "You're a marshmallow."
Nikoly looked away. "I take back what I said. You're the same unbearable as always."
They stared at each other for a moment, then laughed together, muffling their voices to avoid drawing attention.
"How many looks have you melted with that X-ray scanner gaze?" asked Lumine.
"Four businessmen, two princes, and a sommelier. But the bartender seems immune," Nikoly replied without hesitation.
"We're sticking together tonight. The wolves are hungry," Lumine said, linking arms with Nikoly.
"And we're the hunters, not the prey," Nikoly added, with a dark gleam in her eyes.
The two, side by side, advanced through the hall.