By the third morning at the palace, Nara had learned the rhythm of the place. It wasn't loud or hurried the way corporate spaces were. Everything moved with intention, measured footsteps, murmured instructions, doors opening before one realized they were needed. Even time felt different here, stretching gently instead of pressing down on her chest.
She stood before a long table in one of the palace's auxiliary halls, reviewing fabric swatches laid out like a painter's palette. Ivory silk, champagne satin, soft blush organza that caught the light just right.
"This one," Nara said, touching the fabric lightly. "It reflects warmth without overwhelming the room."
One of her assistants nodded, jotting notes. Another adjusted the digital mock-up projected on the wall. The Queen watched from a nearby chair, tea cradled between her palms, eyes thoughtful.
"You think of atmosphere the way a composer thinks of music," she said after a moment. "Not just how it looks but how it feels to stand inside it."
Nara smiled, a little bashful. "People remember how an event made them feel long after they forget what they wore."
Liora's lips curved softly. "Wise."
They moved through the morning like that, discussion flowing easily, decisions made without friction. Nara barely noticed how naturally she deferred to the Queen, and how naturally the Queen deferred back. It wasn't hierarchy. It was harmony.
Later, after lunch, the Queen surprised her.
"You've been working relentlessly," Liora said, setting her cup aside. "Preparation is important, but so is care. I insist, we're going to the spa."
Nara blinked. "The… spa?"
"Yes," Liora said firmly, already standing. "And before you protest, this is not leisure. This is strategy. A calm mind plans better."
Her assistants exchanged amused glances as they were ushered along. The palace spa was unlike anything Nara had ever seen. Marble floors warmed beneath bare feet, air scented with lavender and something faintly floral she couldn't name. Sunlight streamed through tall windows draped in sheer white.
For the first time since arriving, Nara let herself stop.
Warm water loosened tension she hadn't realized she was carrying. Skilled hands worked carefully over her shoulders, her neck, her back. She felt herself exhale fully deep, unguarded.
Across the room, Liora watched her quietly.
"You hold yourself like someone who learned early not to take up too much space," the Queen said softly.
Nara opened her eyes, surprised. "I… I guess I had to."
"You don't anymore," Liora replied.
Something about the way she said it settled deep in Nara's chest. Afterward, refreshed and lighter, they moved straight to fittings.
The boutique wing of the palace housed gowns that felt more like art than clothing. Designers hovered respectfully as Liora and Nara walked among the racks.
"For the ball," Liora said, fingers brushing a deep midnight-blue gown, "I want you to attend as a guest."
Nara turned sharply. "But..."
"The planning will be complete by then," the Queen interrupted gently. "Your team is capable. And I would like you to be present, not working just experiencing."
Nara hesitated. "I don't know if I belong"
Liora met her eyes, calm and steady. "You do."
They tried several dresses. Some too formal, some too restrained. Then Nara stepped into one without thinking, a soft ivory gown with subtle gold threading at the waist. Simple, elegant and powerful in its restraint.
The room went quiet. Liora's breath caught just slightly.
"That one," she said, voice low. "That is unmistakably you."
Nara studied herself in the mirror. For once, she didn't feel like she was pretending.
That evening, alone in her room, she called Keigh.
He answered immediately.
"You sound different," he said after a moment, listening to her ramble about fabrics, fittings, the spa, the Queen's stubborn insistence on care.
"Different how?" she asked, smiling into the screen.
"Lighter," he replied. "Happier."
She leaned back against the pillows. "I think… I'm starting to believe I can do this. All of it."
"I never doubted it," Keigh said quietly.
After they hung up, Nara stood by the window, looking out over the palace gardens bathed in moonlight. She didn't know that, beyond the palace walls, powerful families were collapsing under silent pressure. That the Alarics' empire was being dismantled piece by piece, accounts frozen, allies withdrawing, doors closing without explanation.
She didn't know that forces far older and far quieter than corporate wars had taken an interest in her safety. All she knew was this strange sense of being watched, not in fear, but in care, as if unseen hands were steadying the world around her.
And somewhere miles away, Keigh felt it too. A shift, something moving in the shadows not against her, but for her and for the first time, even he couldn't trace where that protection came from.