The ballroom's music softened into something slower as the night drifted into its final hours. Nobles, exhausted by their own pretenses, finally began to relax—yet Celestia knew that beneath every polite smile, the true war simmered. The glittering façades were cracking, revealing the raw political hunger beneath.
She stayed on the highest balcony that overlooked the grand hall below. From here, she could see them all—her supporters, her enemies, and the wavering ones who could be turned with the right pressure. The night had been long, but not wasted.
Marienne approached with a fresh glass of wine. "Your Highness," she said softly, "Lysander wants to sweep the perimeter again. He worries someone may take advantage of the chaos."
Celestia accepted the wine but did not drink it. "Tell him not to stray too far. Tonight is when desperate men attempt desperate acts."
Marienne nodded and slipped away again.
