The golden doors of the ceremonial hall closed behind Lígia with a soft sound, muffled by the enchantment that prevented words from crossing walls.
Inside, the dinner faded in tense echoes.
Out here, in the wide corridor, the air was finally breathable.
Lígia didn't hide her sigh.
She let her shoulders relax with the ease of someone who had just disassembled an entire theater.
With slow steps, she moved through the corridors. Vael followed silently, always a few steps behind. Still as a trained shadow, respectful like an ancient vow.
For a few seconds, no one said a word.
Until Lígia, with a smirk and a glance over her shoulder, asked
"So... did I do well"
Vael didn't answer right away.
There was a pause.
Then he tilted his head slightly and said
"You are correct. Always"
Lígia raised an eyebrow, amused
"Always"
"The Carmesim Lineage does not make mistakes. Only paths others fail to understand"
Her smile widened
"Good answer, Vael"
And she kept walking, lighter, more certain.
Inside the hall, the atmosphere was different.
The enchanted candles still flickered, but their reflections in the goblets seemed paler. The ceremonial warmth had dissipated.
No words had been spoken since Lígia left.
The heirs were lost in their own thoughts — some tense, others simply... reflective.
Caelion rested his fingers on the rim of his glass, gaze fixed on the dark stain left by the wine. When he raised his head, it was as if the gravity of the Empire weighed on his spine.
"Excuse me" he said, polite but final "I believe I should return to my quarters"
He stood with the flawless composure only those raised under the gaze of a throne could sustain.
Neran gave a short nod and rose as well
"Good night, Your Highness. Lady Elira. Lord Verdanel"
Elira, still seated, swirled her spoon inside the dessert bowl. When she spoke, she didn't raise her eyes
"Good night, gentlemen"
Eliron smiled out of courtesy. But when he said goodbye, the politeness held hidden blades
"May tonight's dreams not be projections of what we let slip away this evening"
One by one, the heirs left the hall — like pieces removed from a board whose rules were about to change.
Elsewhere in the mansion, two observers watched the game.
Michael stood before the Vigil Mirror, hands clasped behind his back, his face as serious as a fortress ready to close its gates.
In the enchanted reflection, the final image of the hall faded along with the heirs.
He spoke without taking his eyes off the glass
"She speaks too well. With too much boldness. Lígia's ideas don't follow the Empire's rails. They're misaligned"
Selène, sitting in a nearby armchair, raised her eyes from the wine glass she had barely touched
"She's right"
Michael turned slowly
"She contradicts tradition"
"And tradition, Michael" Selène replied "is like ancient silk. Beautiful... until it begins to unravel under its own weight"
She stood and walked slowly to the mirror
"Look what happened to House Caelthur. They honored tradition blindly for centuries. And now Look what remains of their lineage. Fragments. A rusted name pretending to be a blade"
Michael remained silent
"Our daughter doesn't want to destroy the Empire. She wants it to breathe"
"Sometimes" he said "breathing too much weakens the shield"
Selène stopped beside him. Their eyes met in the reflection
"And suffocating too much... kills the heart"
Silence fell.
---
The bedroom door closed behind Lígia with a soft click.
As if crossing a veil, she dropped her shoulders and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
She stretched, arms above her head, until her shoulders gave a soft pop, platinum hair cascading like a living waterfall down her back
"Ahhh... freedom. Lavender-flavored, with a hint of social survival"
She glided toward the center of the room — the atmosphere responding to her mood, lighting with a subtle warmth.
Lígia spun on her heels, arms stretched wide
"System" she murmured lazily "be honest. On a scale from flawless performance to 'heir of the millennium' award... where am I"
Silence for a beat.
And then...
A purplish-blue glow flickered in the air above the reading table. The system appeared, yawning loudly as if waking from an interdimensional nap
"You asked for technical evaluation" he purred, voice laced with irony "Very well. Activating Noble Dramatic Performance Assessment Mode™"
With an arcane flick, a pair of square glasses appeared magically on his snout. He adjusted them with a paw, immediately shifting into the tone of a weary university professor.
A holographic screen blinked into view, displaying stats and graphs with glittering points and colored bars.
"First item: Dominant Posture with Cynical Elegance. Score: 9.4"
The chart showed a silhouette of Lígia with a golden-purple aura, tilting her chin with mathematical precision.
"Second item: Spontaneous Aura Control... Score: glitch. That was a destiny bug. You activated Vampiric Domain accidentally, and I can't even simulate that in training"
Lígia raised her eyebrows, both surprised and amused
"Huh... so it really was a domain"
"It was more than that" the cat replied, flipping the screen to show a slow-motion energy wave "You caused magical fluctuation in nearby objects, shadow alignment, and subtle mental pressure on the heirs. No loss of control. No effort. Pure instinct. Others spend decades trying. You yawned and nailed it"
She smiled, pleased, walking slowly around the room
"I love when my incompetence hits someone in the jaw"
"Third item: Inspiring speeches with fake humility and sarcasm disguised as courtesy. Score: 9.7. I almost downloaded a motivational poem"
Lígia gave a soft laugh, throwing herself backward onto the bed.
The screen floated to the ceiling, replaying the final dinner lines with the system's critiques popping up like editorial captions.
"Fourth item: Polite avoidance of direct confrontation disguised as poetic analogies. Score: 10. No one knows if you made a threat or offered dessert"
"Just how I like it" Lígia murmured, covering her eyes with her arm "If I confuse them enough, no one knows where the hit's coming from"
The system blinked slowly, content
"Overall score: 9.8. The banquet was a stage, and you danced with knives on your feet without anyone seeing the blood"
She pulled her arm down and stared at the ceiling
"Is that good or worrying"
"Both. Congratulations"
The fireplace crackled softly, throwing warm reflections against the walls.
Finally, Lígia smiled to herself
"You know... part of me still thinks all of this is ridiculous. Heirs, alliances, status spells... it's all so theatrical"
The system yawned, removing the glasses with a dramatic gesture
"And you're in the lead role, Star. The audience didn't blink once"
Lígia closed her eyes for a moment, her expression soft.
A thought surfaced from the dinner's memory
"System"
The cat lifted one ear, still lazy, curled on his floating cushion
"Hmm"
"Open the Interaction Reports. I want to see how the heirs responded to my presence"
The answer came with a refined sound of data shifting in the air. The firelight shimmered in golden-pink reflections as a new interface unfolded before Lígia.
"Interaction Report Tab"
▸ Caelion Sun
Emotional State: Silent analysis
Mental Record:
"She wasn't raised for this game... but she's playing.
Instinctive. Unpredictable.
A domain without training? Unacceptable. Fascinating"
Evaluation: Dangerous potential — under surveillance
▸ Elira Sun
Emotional State: Intrigued and suspicious
Mental Record:
"She's different than before.
Too perceptive for a newcomer.
Is it performance or pure instinct
Lígia breaks the rules like she breathes — and still gets applause"
Evaluation: The Carmesim flower may have thorns that cut the throne
▸ Neran Ferrosin
Emotional State: Contained respect
Mental Record:
"True presence. Sharp voice.
Said little, moved a lot.
The kind who doesn't ask for passage — she builds her own path"
Evaluation: Unexpected. Must be considered in all future projections
▸ Eliron Verdanel
Emotional State: Irritated, curious, dangerously alert
Mental Record:
"A piece is slipping out of the plan.
A domain?... The worst part She doesn't even know what she did
Was her domain a power play
How can someone so irritating be so... magnetic"
Evaluation: A new and bothersome piece — maybe too bright to ignore
Beneath the table, the system added a small note, written in elegant digital script with a glowing wax seal:
System Note:
You've become backroom talk, champion. Reactions driven by pure instinct.
You didn't just enter the game.
You reshuffled the board.
Lígia raised an eyebrow, reading each line with focus
"Hmm. So they're more attentive than I thought"
The system purred with amused pride
"You're a storm dressed in modern diplomacy. And they finally realized the sky is shifting"
Lígia ran a finger across the edge of the interface, its soft light reflecting against her nails
"Let's see how long courtesy holds before it turns to fear"
She closed the tab with a smooth gesture.
And then, finally, laid back — a small smile tugging at her lips.
Not out of vanity.
But out of the quiet certainty that the next act already had a guaranteed audience.