The sky above the Black Rose Palace was a stretch of endless blue—clear, quiet, and untouchable. The morning breeze brushed over the ivory walls, stirring petals from the garden into the air like a scattering of daydreams.
It was a new day. But the letter in Evelyn's hand made it feel anything but ordinary.
Seated by the window, sunlight catching the trim of her dress, her eyes fixed on the golden envelope before her.
Evelyn stared at the crimson wax seal—its insignia unmistakable. The imperial crest. The emperor's seal.
She traced a finger along the edge of the envelope. There was no mistake. The invitation had come directly from the Imperial Palace.
She flipped the thick envelope open again, her gaze lingering on the elegant handwriting.
An invitation.
To a banquet.
Specifically, to celebrate the fifth birthday of Princess Rosalia—the second daughter of the empress.
Her half-sister.
Evelyn's lips curled, neither into a smile nor a frown, but something between amusement and ridicule.
She had never received a single invitation—no banquets, no celebrations, not even to tea parties to forge a few friendships. And on her birthdays—there was not a banquet, not even a single candlelit cake gracing the table. Her mother, the Empress, was always too ensnared in the weight of duty to spare a moment.
And now? An invitation?
For the birthday of the child who had received everything she had ever wished for?
Her mother's love—and her mother's time.
Evelyn (thinking): Of course. My mother would never send me this. She can't even stand hearing my name, let alone inviting me to her beloved daughter's birthday banquet. This must be the emperor's doing. But why?
In the past as long as she could remember, Evelyn had never once laid eyes on her stepfather. Not even once. She had only heard rumors—a man of calm demeanor, frightening precision, and of great beauty.
Even when she used to shamelessly storm the empress's quarters, crying for attention, she never encountered the emperor. It was as though he purposely avoided her… or simply didn't care enough to notice her.
So now—after all these years of silence—this?
A banquet invitation?
Evelyn (thoughts): "Does he want to parade me around so he can laugh? Or perhaps, to show off the lavish celebration his precious daughter is receiving... something I never got even once."
Her hand tightened around the parchment, but she didn't tear it.
Instead, her gaze sharpened.
Evelyn (quietly): "If that's the case, then he's too pathetic."
From across the room, Cassy and Ella exchanged a glance. Both had been silently observing Evelyn's still figure for a while now.
Cassy stepped forward hesitantly.
Cassy: "Your Highness… if you don't want to go, you don't have to. You can ignore it."
Evelyn blinked out of her thoughts and looked up at Cassy. Then, a small, almost sly smile tugged at her lips.
Evelyn: "Why not? Since they invited me so sincerely, how could I be so disrespectful as to decline? Of course, I'll attend."
She held the letter up again, this time with a glint in her eye.
Evelyn: "Besides... I'm curious to meet this little sister of mine."
Ella stepped forward, a smile blooming on her face as if she had just received a imperial order.
Ella: "Then we must start preparing right away. There's not much time left until the banquet!"
Cassy: "Yes! Our princess must be the most dazzling presence at that banquet."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, a half-laugh escaping her.
Evelyn: "It's not my birthday. I don't need to compete with a five-year-old. Just keep it casual."
Cassy shook her head fervently.
Cassy: "No way. It's our princess's first official appearance at a banquet—so we are going to make them dazzled with your beauty."
Ella: "That's right."
Evelyn sighed, but there was a helpless flicker of warmth behind her gaze. She could already see the hard days ahead.
And just like that, the whirlwind began.
———
The banquet was in seven days.
But the preparations started now.
Dresses were pulled from wardrobes dusted in velvet and jewels. Accessories, hair ornaments, gloves, fans—every drawer, every chest opened as if they were about to crown a queen. Cassy and Ella's enthusiasm reached divine heights.
Meanwhile, Evelyn sat on the couch, gently stroking the silky black fur of Shadow, her cat, nestled lazily in her lap.
She watched them with a faint, amused helplessness.
Evelyn (thinking): They're more excited than I am.
Still, her fingers slowed as her thoughts drifted—backward.
To the past she didn't ask for.
To the girl she used to be.
———
Despite the Empress's hatred for Evelyn, the Black Rose Palace was never starved of necessities. Food, garments, fabrics, accessories—all top-tier.
It was all for appearance. The Empress cared deeply for her reputation, and that meant even the daughter she despised must appear well-kept to the outside world.
She was given everything.
Luxurious gowns. The finest dishes. A palace of her own. Her bed was soft. Her bath scented with rose oils. Her wardrobe overflowed with silks and pearls.
She lacked nothing.
Except love.
From the moment she could speak, she sought her mother's attention like a flower reaching for the sun—but found only shadow.
Ignored. Discarded. Forgotten.
A child the Empress would rather forget.
Her nanny had raised her, offering fleeting warmth in a cold palace. But the nanny died mysteriously when Evelyn was four.
The guards made a show of investigating, asked a few questions, paced the halls once or twice—and then, like a candle snuffed in a storm, the matter was forgotten.
Like it never happened.
After that, the once curious, shy child turned sharp. Rebellious. Violent.
She cursed, threw things, had servants punished for the smallest of mistakes.
Evelyn screamed, threw things, cursed. Not because she was wicked. But because that was the only time people looked at her.
And even then—only in fear.
The servants did their jobs out of dread. Not loyalty. Not kindness. Because if they didn't, a porcelain vase might fly at their heads. Or worse, Evelyn might lash out with cruel precision.
Because she had no other weapon.
Fear had become her armor.
Rage, her blade.
Had she been meek, had she cried quietly in a corner, she would've been crushed. Eaten alive by the noble's hunger for weakness.
But instead, she survived.
The servants obeyed her every word. Out of fear, yes—but at least she was not ignored or looked down upon.
Even if she was labeled arrogant, selfish, and willful, it was because of these traits that she survived and refused to be trampled by anyone.
Fear became the survival method of a child.
———
The preparation began in earnest.
The wardrobe was ransacked. Fabrics flown across couches. Hairpins gleamed like stars across the table. The girls were aflame with excitement.
Melinda: "She should wear sapphire. It brings out the sharpness in her eyes."
Lora: "But gold embroidery will make her glow like nobility."
Cassy: "What about both? A sapphire dress with golden thread. And those shoes with the crystal flowers on them..."
Ella: "I think black or white would be good too. After all, the princess is so beautiful that she'll shine no matter what she wears."
Lily practically danced across the room, lifting dresses to Evelyn's face, squealing every few seconds.
Evelyn watched them bickering over color palettes and fabrics with a strange warmth blooming inside her chest.
It was new. Quiet. Like sunlight under cold water.
Evelyn sat with Shadow curled in her lap, brushing her fingers through his soft black fur. Her eyes followed the others, watching them buzz around her like guardian bees.
Evelyn quietly murmurs to Shadow,
Evelyn: "They're going to give me a headache before the banquet even starts…"
Shadow purred.
She didn't stop them.
Because despite everything, their energy warmed the room.
The palace had always been a place of quiet war, but for once, it felt like a home.
The fire in Cassy and Ella's eyes only grew brighter.
Cassy: "This banquet… we'll make them regret ever ignoring her."
Ella: "We'll make the palace burn with envy."
And Evelyn, still petting her cat, gave a long, resigned sigh.
The countdown to the banquet had begun.