"Done, Your Highness."
The attendant stepped away, as Leander stared at himself in the mirror.
He paused, almost startled by the figure reflected back. The charcoal uniform carried a quiet power, its deep shade sharpened by the crimson sash that cut across his chest and spilled into the cloak at his shoulder. Silver clasps glinted where the fabric caught the light, every detail deliberate, too precise to belong to chance.
His gaze drifted over the tall boots, the tailored lines, the flawless order of it all, so princely it felt like a stranger wearing his skin. Golden hair burned where the sunlight touched it, and the fine face he'd grown into frowned faintly, not in defiance but in quiet wonder. When had boyhood slipped away, leaving behind this figure clothed in gray and red?
"That would be all." He said before waving his hand in a dismissive motion and sitting down on the stool near the dresser, taking a deep breath.
Just before he could mentally prepare himself, the door bursts open, and the kids barge in, accompanied by the Empress.
"There's something called knocking, Mother." Lee hissed.
"Done dressing, dear?" Celestia asked.
She was dressed in a lovely pale yellow, going wonderfully with her black hair, accompanied by a few pieces of diamond jewelry.
"Whose funeral are you off to? Last I checked, it was a garden party mid-summer."
Thalia looked as elegant as ever. A light purple gown that trailed behind her, blond hair loosely tied half up. "Although, I must admit, red with black does seem striking."
"It's dark gray, or charcoal. Not black, Lia."
Damian was clad in a forest green suit, which made his jet black hair and emerald eyes pop.
Leander sighed, "I can make it snow in July, Thalia. So, why shouldn't I wear charcoal outdoors?"
"Don't mind her, you look dashing, Lee." Damian winked.
Lee gave him a tired smile and got up from the stool. Clasping a spare dagger to his thigh, he marched towards the door and held it out for his mother, smirking. "Ladies first,"
She rolled her eyes with a smile and gave a dramatic curtsy, "Oh my, my heart has been swayed. My knight in shining armor!"
Leander laughed heartily as he left the room after his family. The door clicked softly behind them as they walked down the hall.
"Oh wait, Lee," The Empress halted, looking at the Prince.
The Empress was no short woman, but Lee towered over her even as she walked in heels.
"Yes?" He raised a brow.
"Your father told me to pass the message to you, you have to reposition the guards at the back entrance of my palace before the guests start coming in."
He sighed, then nodded. "You'll accompany the kids then?"
"Oh for goodness sake." Damian sighed.
"We're not babies, Brother!" Thalia argued.
Leander laughed, "Well, to me, you all are. Off you go now." He waved them off, then headed in the opposite direction, towards the back of the Selia Palace.
. . .
The gravel crunched as a carriage bearing the Montclair emblem entered the Selia Palace territory. Inside, Duchess Thedosia patted the front of her hair.
"Tell me, Tia, I don't look too old, do I?" she said nervously, picking at the silver stands on her hairline.
Artemisia, sitting across from her, shook her head, "It's been quite some time, Mother. I'm sure everyone would be expecting you to look aged. You don't have eternal youth now, do you?"
Thedosia sighed, and leaned back in her seat, "I suppose. Ah, we've entered the Empress' Palace."
Tia could feel the excitement radiating from her Mother. It had been a while since she was this happy, but it felt refreshing seeing her look ecstatic to greet an old friend.
Her mother aside, Artemesia herself could feel an unfamiliar emotion bubbling inside her chest. Was it nervousness? Excitement?
She couldn't quite put a finger on it, but decided to keep the thought aside as the carriage came to a halt and they were instructed to head to the main garden.
. . .
"Thedosia!"
The Empress, who would usually be dripping with formality, pulled her friend into a warm hug. The Duchess returned it, trying not to cry tears of joy.
"Oh my, Celestia. Have you been replaced by aliens in the time I was gone?" Thedosia pulled away, looking at her.
She chuckled, shaking her head, "Maybe. But oh my, look at you!"
She looked pointedly at the few visible strands of gray hair peaking from the Duchess' carefully constructed hairstyle.
"Oh, save it. You say that as if you yourself didn't age a minute in eight long years." She retorted, patting the sweat dry off her embarrassed face with a handkerchief
"Oh well, at least I didn't grow old enough to use a cane." She snickered at the golden cane supporting Thedosia.
The Duchess rolled her eyes, "Oh please. Are you going to keep me standing the whole day?"
"Oh, my apologies, dear friend. Come right this way!" She guided her towards a table near the indoor lake, probably the most beautiful scene of the whole Selia palace.
. . .
"Ah... I lose track of the routes for one minute, and I get lost."
Artemesia stood confused and tired in a deserted hallway, on her way back to the garden after using the restroom.
"Why on Earth are there so many corridors?" she mumbled, walking into yet another dead end.
"For crying out loud!" she exhaled irritatedly. Composing herself once again, she turned around and took another corridor patiently.
Another dead end. An exasperated sigh escaped her lips.
"Why are there no servants in the Empress' Palace? I would've asked someone the layout..." She sighed, taking a moment to admire the artwork on the wall.
"Why exactly does a young lady need the layout of the Selia Palace?" A deep voice asks from behind her.
Alarmed, she spins on her heel, only to be met with a... chest?
A broad chest, clad in dark gray. A crimson sash trailing across his waist and up his collarbone, finally escaping from his shoulder as a flowing cape behind him.
"Who-?" She looked up with a frown, only to freeze in her tracks.
Bright, emerald green eyes look down at her, just as surprised as hers. But nothing like the young, carefree emerald greens. Now, they looked more mature and regal. Curly gold hair that was once never accepted and always brushed in defiance, lay as soft, tamed curls on his forehead. One fell right on his brow, which was frowning in remembrance. Fine, plump lips were pursed in concentration while golden lashes fluttered, trying to process what the eyes saw.
Finally, the deep voice, now much softer, spoke up.
"Artemesia?"
She flinched at the familiar yet so distant sound his lips made. "Your... Highness?"
Suddenly, someone from behind them called out, "Crown Prince! The first order of knights await your instructions! Where are you, your Highness?"
He seemed to snap out of his daze, and immediately cleared his throat, "The main garden is two corridors to the left. You'll enter it when you see the rose bushes."
He quickly retreated from the hall, and towards the voice that called him.
Artemesia stood there, frozen for a minute, when she finally snapped back to Earth and ran in the direction she was told, realizing how late she got.