Immediately after Queen Flowyria finished her speech, the musicians struck up a fast and lively beat that had many feet tapping in rhythm.
"Are we dancing?" Bethran asked Leo quietly.
Leo shook his head. "There will be a short play first, showcasing the valiant efforts of all those present that night."
"This should be interesting," Bethran said with a smirk, his eyes fixed on the small stage where an entourage of costumed elves had gathered.
One in particular caught his attention—the elf wearing a panther mask.
"I guess that's supposed to be you," Emelda chuckled.
"I think you should be more concerned with the elf in the tiara," Leo fired back.
Emelda rolled her eyes just as the play began. The lights above shifted, casting dramatic shadows as the actors sat around a mock representation of the Phoenix Ball.
"Really brings back memories," the princess whispered with a smile.
Bethran, who hadn't attended the original event, found the theatrics amusing. Leo, on the other hand, didn't look impressed.
"LOOK OUT!" shouted the actor portraying Leo. In the next moment, small fake arrows flew across the stage. With an acrobatic somersault—one Leo certainly didn't recall performing—the actor rolled and "saved" the princess and two guards. A few others clutched their chests, performing exaggerated death throes before collapsing dramatically.
"HA, HA, HA!" A black-robed actor—clearly representing a Brotherhood assassin—strode onto the stage. "In the name of Draghyr!" he bellowed, leading a dramatic charge with several others.
As the attackers advanced, the lights dimmed, spotlighting the actress playing Patricia and several Sun Mages. "Guests, with me!" she shouted, ushering the nobles and royals through rolled-down golden curtains meant to represent portals.
In the next scene, Leo, Emelda, and a few guards pushed back against endless waves of enemies.
"Surely they weren't this many?" Bethran chuckled.
"I doubt anyone would've made it out alive if they had been," Emelda joined in, laughing.
Leo didn't comment. Every time the actor portraying him crouched low and growled, pretending to transform into a panther, he cringed.
As if reading his mind—which she was—Emelda nudged him with an elbow. "Cheer up. Look on the bright side."
Both Leo and Bethran raised a brow.
"Now everyone will forever remember the legend of 'Fanghyr the Panther.'"
Leo groaned and frowned deeply. Emelda just grinned and turned her attention back to the play.
The lights dimmed further. In the center stood a snow-haired elf with glowing purple eyes—Wulfe, or the troupe's best attempt at portraying him. A red-haired actress playing Emelda engaged him fiercely, flinging spells to distract the fiend as elderly civilians fled.
"Well done, Princess!" Bethran clapped loudly, prompting applause from the rest of the hall.
Leo didn't join in. His arms were crossed.
{What's the matter?} Leo asked telepathically.
{This isn't what happened. I was knocked unconscious. Several mages died protecting me,} Emelda replied, wiping a tear.
Leo sighed. {That's history for you. Only the main characters are remembered. Everyone else is forgotten or downplayed.}
Emelda nodded, watching as the Patricia actress arrived to rescue her and Hamilton. The fight escalated with magical effects—smoke, sparks, and dwarves dressed in black representing summoned devils.
Eventually, Patricia ran Wulfe through with a golden sword. The actor coughed dramatically, clutching his chest.
"I won't go down alone!" he cried, stretching trembling hands toward the princess. "Nooo!" the golden-haired actress screamed, shoving the princess aside before vanishing through a trapdoor.
The audience fell silent as she shed tears, shaking Wulfe's lifeless body in grief.
A few more scenes passed, showing Leo slaying the last Brotherhood member. Beside him stood a tall, barrel-chested man covered in hair.
"Who is that supposed to be?" Bethran leaned forward.
"Some Magnitian knight?" Leo joked.
Emelda almost spat out her Ambrose wine. "Isn't it obvious?" Leo grinned.
Bethran squinted. The actor wore a dark robe, carried a massive cutlass, and had two garish green marks on his face.
"You've got to be kidding me," Bethran growled. "I'm not even that hairy!"
Leo patted him on the back. "Welcome to the club."
Thankfully, the play ended with dramatic scenes from the chaos that had engulfed the Four Kingdoms that night.
"This play is dedicated to all those depicted here—and to the many others we couldn't include," announced the red-haired Emelda actress, bowing as the rest of the troupe joined her.
The hall erupted in applause, some even standing.
"Six," Emelda said suddenly.
Still clapping, Leo raised an amused brow. "You're feeling generous tonight."
"I give it a four," he added.
Bethran sighed. "Despite their tasteless depiction of me, they captured the emotion of the night. I'll give it a seven."
"Hmph," Leo crossed his arms.
Emelda chuckled. Bethran smiled.
"I just hope it ends well," he said, watching Leo and Emelda bicker about whether the panther mask had been accurate.
"Beauty and the Beast," he added with a grin.
"How could you, Bethran?" Leo gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "Call the heir to Elyria a beast?"
Emelda slapped her forehead. "He was referring to you."
"You do turn into a panther," Bethran said. "If that's not a beast, I don't know what is."
"Fine!" Leo groaned in defeat.
"ATTENTION!" a small voice rang out.
All eyes turned toward the high table, where a tiny golden fairy fluttered in the air.
"Looks familiar," Leo murmured, trying to recall.
"It is I, Hawthorn—your little and adorable MC!" the fairy declared, spiraling in gold sparks until he landed atop the massive chandelier.
"Time for the knighting ceremony!"
Cheers erupted throughout the hall.