Chapter 51
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"It's fine, Lysenne. Seriously, it's not an issue. I'll be alright," I said, managing to project about ten times more royal grace than I actually felt inside.
Reacting like a hysterical drama queen right now would solve absolutely nothing. Though, internally, I was crying. I had actually liked that silver gown a whole lot.
Sigh.
Leave it to me to manage to completely ruin a designer dress within what had to be a world-record time for catastrophic first appearances at high-society functions.
To make matters worse, this wasn't even my fault!
Some poor waiter had been shoved by the tightly packed crowd, lost his balance, and very efficiently emptied an entire tray of dark wine directly onto me as he went down.
I had simply become the unfortunate geographical destination of his terrible day.
Lysenne and Rhaevan reached my side almost immediately.
By then, I had already noticed the looks.
The curious glances. The nobles pretending to look at the architecture while staring dead at my chest.
And, of course, the muffled whispers. I had seriously underestimated just how much free entertainment a giant stain could provide to bored rich people.
Before I could properly process the humiliation, I was gently but firmly steered away from the center of the grand hall and guided into a much quieter, secluded corridor.
"Lysenne," I said the second we were out of immediate eyesight, trying to scrape together what remained of my tattered dignity.
"I really think you should go back out there. People are going to start looking for you."
I looked down at the massive, damp stain.
"I think I should just call the carriage and head back to the Tower. This doesn't exactly feel like a situation I can recover from."
"I'll come with you," Rhaevan interjected immediately, his face dead serious.
"No." I looked at both of them and aggressively shook my head. "Absolutely not. You are both incredibly important political figures. It would look highly suspicious if the Crown Princess and the High Archanist vanished from a royal ball just because I got ambiently attacked by fermented grapes."
A small, genuine smile flickered briefly across Lysenne's worried face. Then, her eyes lit up as she thought of something. "The ball has only just started, Cassie. It would be an absolute tragedy for you to leave early because of a clumsy accident."
"Yes, but look at me-"
"I think I can fix this," she said confidently.
I blinked at her. "How?"
"I keep a few spare gowns in my palace chambers," she explained. "We are almost the exact same size, and I'm certain one of them will fit you perfectly. You can change your clothes and come right back."
"Lysenne, really, that isn't necessary. I can just go-"
"I insist."
She said it gently, with that classic sweet protagonist smile, but there was just enough heavy royal authority backing her tone that my modern brain immediately recognized it for what it truly was: a royal decree beautifully disguised as sisterly kindness.
I let out a defeated sigh. And just like that, I had zero legal arguments left.
Lysenne signaled to a nearby royal maid, whispered a few quick, rapid-fire instructions, and then turned back to me with a reassuring pat on my arm. "I'll see you shortly, Cassie."
Then she and Rhaevan turned to head back into the noisy ballroom, leaving me to be escorted out of the main estate toward the princess's private quarters.
As the maid and I walked, I realized Lysenne's personal chambers weren't located in the main building.
Her wing was across the central palace gardens, connected by a softly lit, winding stone pathway.
It was significantly quieter out here, the night air cool against my skin.
Honestly, at this exact moment, a dark, empty garden was about a thousand times more appealing than a crowded ballroom full of judgy aristocrats.
I also couldn't help but notice that the security seemed incredibly thin out here. Most of the royal guards had clearly been reassigned to patrol the perimeter of the main festivities. Good to know the palace security protocol was still operating mostly on vibes and optimism.
The maid unlocked the grand double doors and led me inside. The moment I stepped across the threshold into Lysenne's bedroom, I paused.
Wow. It was stunning. The space was massive but incredibly thoughtful in its layout, filled with elegant, high-end furnishings that carried a quiet richness without feeling excessive.
Soft, heavy drapes framed the towering windows, letting the warm moonlight filter gently across the floor.
The bed was huge, piled high with neatly arranged silk cushions and beautifully embroidered sheets-the kind of bed that looked far too perfect to actually sleep in.
The whole room was decorated in soft golds, creams, and muted pastel pinks. But it didn't feel cold or clinical like a museum. It felt genuinely lived-in.
Then my eyes caught the shelves. They were lined with rows and rows of actual books.
Not fake, leather-bound decorative pieces meant to impress visiting diplomats, but real books that had clearly been opened, read, and loved.
Some were stacked slightly out of place, as if they had been put back onto the shelf in a total hurry.
For reasons I couldn't entirely articulate, that tiny detail made the perfect princess feel a lot more real to me.
The maid retrieved a fresh garment bag containing the spare gown and stepped forward, offering to help me undress.
I declined immediately. Look, I am all for embracing the fantasy lifestyle, but there are strict personal limits to how much naked assistance I am willing to tolerate in one evening.
Once she politely stepped outside to give me privacy, I changed at lightning speed. When I finally caught sight of the new dress in the mirror, I had to begrudgingly admit that the girl had immaculate taste.
It was a vibrant, striking shade of deep rose pink-bold, but incredibly elegant.
Delicate gold embroidery ran along the bodice.
And, more importantly, the cut of the fabric made it significantly easier to move around in than the moonlight gown I'd been wearing earlier.
Thankfully, due to Martha's extraordinary skills, my makeup and hair were intact.
I adjusted the flowing sleeves, smoothing down the skirt. "Alright," I muttered to my reflection, pumping myself up. "Crisis averted. We recover. Let's go."
When I stepped out of the bedchambers, I realized the maid had already vanished. She'd probably hurried back to help clear away the grape juice disaster in the main hall. No big deal. I knew the way.
I made my way back down the stone steps and onto the garden path, retracing my earlier steps. The night had grown even quieter now, the distant sounds of the orchestra music and noble chatter drifting faintly through the heavy air like a distant memory.
Then, out of nowhere, I heard it.
A sharp, soft rustling sound.
I slowed my pace, my silver heels coming to a silent halt on the stone. The sound had definitely come from a darker, overgrown corner of the maze-like garden where the magical lanterns didn't quite reach.
I scanned the immediate area.
Zero guards in sight. Wonderful. Once again, palace security was doing a stellar job.
Rustle.
There it was again.
"Hello? Is someone there?" I called out into the dark.
Because apparently, despite surviving monster attacks, my brain had learned absolutely nothing from my previous near-death experiences. Classic horror movie mistake.
The rustling cut off instantly. Total silence.
I stood perfectly still, my eyes straining against the dark shadows. A heartbeat later, I caught a tiny flash of movement deeper within the dense foliage. It was incredibly subtle. Barely noticeable.
Which meant, naturally, my Amanda-brain did the exact, polar opposite of what a sensible, survival-oriented human being should do.
Instead of immediately sprinting back toward the very well-lit, very heavily populated royal ballroom, I walked right toward the creepy noise. Curiosity: 1. Survival instincts: 0.
I stepped off the safe stone path, slipping behind a thick line of manicured hedges, and moved carefully toward the shadow. The space narrowed tightly as I approached the tall outer garden wall, where the shadows grew pitch black.
Then, I finally saw him.
A thin, incredibly frail-looking young boy was standing partially hidden behind the thick trunk of an oak tree. He was staring intensely through the leaves toward the bright ballroom, looking as though he were anxiously waiting for a signal.
Wait, what? What on earth was a random kid doing roaming the private royal gardens at this hour of the night?
"Hey," I said softly, taking a cautious, non-threatening step forward so I wouldn't scare him. "Are you lost? Can I help-?"
That was as far as I got.
Before I could finish the sentence, a heavy, suffocatingly thick piece of rough cloth was violently dropped over my head from behind.
I gasped, my vision instantly cutting to black. I reached up instinctively with both hands, my nails tearing at the rough fabric, desperately trying to yank it off my face.
But the attack was lightning fast. Masterfully practiced. And completely, utterly unexpected.
"Quick," a gruff, low voice hissed somewhere right beside my ear. "Bring her this way before the guards are back."
A violent surge panic exploded through my veins. I tried to thrash, tried to summon a wave of my explosive magic, tried to scream for Rhaevan-
But then, the ground beneath my feet violently tilted. My balance completely gave out as someone swept my legs. The entire world blurred into a spinning, dizzying mess.
My consciousness began to rapidly slip away, and the very last thing I felt was the freezing, heavy weight of absolute darkness closing in around me.