The grand doors of the banquet hall swung open as the Chamberlain, his voice resonating with importance, announced, "Her Royal Highness, Princess Lilliana of Tobit, and her lady-in-waiting, Lady Viviana!"
A hush fell over the assembled Eldorian court. Lilliana entered with a carefully cultivated grace, though Viviana could sense the nervous tremor in her princess's hand. She was a vision in a gown of shimmering sapphire silk that complemented her golden hair, which was swept up into an elegant low bun, secured with diamond-studded pins that matched the magnificent diamond necklace gracing her throat. Her gloved hands held a delicate ivory fan, which she used more as a shield than for cooling.
Viviana followed a step behind, a deliberate shadow. Her own gown was of a deep emerald silk, simpler in cut but equally beautiful, falling in soft folds around her. Her black curly hair was left to cascade down her back, caught here and there with tiny, star-like silver ornaments that glinted in the candlelight. Together, they presented a striking contrast – Lilliana, the radiant sun, and Viviana, the enigmatic night.
They both curtsied deeply before Queen Diana, who sat upon a slightly raised dais at the head of the hall. She was indeed looking beautiful, her bearing undeniable, her silver-streaked hair coiled into an intricate crown. Tonight, she wore a gown of deep burgundy, adorned with the heavy gold signet of Eldoria.
"Rise, my dears," Queen Diana said, her voice warm, though her eyes held a keen, assessing quality. They rose, their gowns rustling softly.
"How do you find the banquet, Princess Lilliana?" the Queen asked. "Does Eldorian hospitality meet with your approval?"
Lilliana offered a bright, practiced smile. "It is truly magnificent, Your Majesty. The hall is breathtaking, and the music is enchanting. I am quite in awe of Eldoria's splendor."
Queen Diana's smile widened slightly. "I am pleased to hear it." She then turned to her son, Prince Dominic, who sat beside her, a silent, imposing figure in a formal black tunic, intricately embroidered with silver thread that mirrored the design on his father's ancient sword, now his own, which rested by his chair. His dark hair was slicked back, accentuating the sharp planes and burn scar of his face and the intensity of his cold blue eyes.
Viviana allowed her gaze to meet Dominic's for the first time since their unnerving eye contact in the throne room earlier that day. He looked every inch the formidable Crown Prince, a warrior constrained by courtly attire.
The Queen prompted him gently, "Isn't your betrothed looking particularly beautiful tonight, Dominic?"
Dominic's gaze flickered towards Lilliana for a brief, almost dismissive moment before returning to his mother. "She looks beautiful, Mother," he replied, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth or genuine compliment. His eyes then landed on Viviana, and for a heartbeat, their gazes locked again – hers carefully neutral, his filled with that same inexplicable, cold dislike. He broke the contact first, looking away with an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw.
This staring is becoming a distinct pattern,
Viviana thought, a faint irritation stirring beneath her calm exterior. And a rather annoying one at that.
The Queen clapped her hands lightly. "Let the banquet officially commence! Let there be feasting and merriment to welcome our honored guests from Tobit!"
Instantly, the orchestra, which had been playing softly, swelled into a more lively tune. Servants began to move gracefully, filling goblets with wine, and presenting silver platters laden with roasted meats, exotic fruits, and elaborate pastries. The air filled with the clinking of crystal, the murmur of polite conversation, and the enticing aromas of the feast. The banquet hall itself was a spectacle of Luxury – long tables draped in white linen, adorned with towering liles and arrangements of dark red Eldorian roses.
Later, as the meal progressed and the initial formalities eased, Queen Diana leaned towards Lilliana, her expression softening. "My dear Princess," she said softly, "I have heard tales for many years of the beauty and grace of the Tobitian court dances. The spirited rhythms, the flowing movements… it sounds enchanting. Would you perhaps grace us with a display of your native steps? It would bring me, and I am sure, the entire court, great pleasure."
Lilliana's eyes lit up with genuine enthusiasm, her earlier nervousness about Dominic momentarily forgotten. "With the greatest pleasure, Your Majesty!" she exclaimed, rising from her seat with a delighted smile.
A space was quickly cleared in the center of the hall. The musicians, after a brief consultation with Lilliana, struck up a lively, melodic Tobitian folk tune, quite different from the more somber Eldorian airs. Lilliana, her sapphire gown swirling around her, danced with grace and joy. Her steps were light, her movements,expressive. She was a vibrant splash of color and life in the somewhat stern Eldorian hall, and even the stoic courtiers seemed captivated.
After a few minutes of her solo performance, which earned her appreciative applause, Lilliana, flushed and laughing, suddenly darted towards where Viviana sat. Before Viviana could react, Lilliana had seized her hand, pulling her towards the center of the dance floor.
Viviana, caught completely off guard, felt a flush rise to her own cheeks. "Lily, I can't…" she began, her voice a flustered whisper. "I'm not prepared… this is your moment…"
But it was too late. She was already there, Lilliana grinning mischievously at her. "Nonsense, Vi! You know all the steps! Dance with me! Show these Eldorians how we truly celebrate in Tobit!"
With a resigned sigh that was part exasperation, part affection, Viviana allowed herself to be drawn into the rhythm. They had danced together countless times and their movements quickly found a familiar harmony. Their routine was a blend of elegance and energy – elaborate footwork, graceful turns, hands clapping in unison to the beat, their contrasting figures weaving a captivating pattern. Lilliana was all sunshine and smiles, Viviana more reserved, her grace quieter, more subtle, but no less compelling.
At the corner of her eye, as they twirled, Viviana caught Dominic's gaze. He was staring directly at her, his expression unreadable, perhaps indifferent, perhaps still filled with that cold dislike. There was certainly no appreciation for the dance, no softening of his harsh features.
What is his problem ? she thought again, a spark of genuine annoyance now. This constant, unwavering stare is not just unnerving, it's actively hostile. Does he suspect something already, or is he simply a man who finds displeasure in everything and everyone?
Just as their dance was reaching a lively crescendo, the festive atmosphere shattered.
The great doors at the far end of the banquet hall burst open with a violent crash. Two burly palace guards roughly shoved a young man forward, sending him sprawling onto the polished marble floor in the center of the room. He was disheveled, his clothes torn, his face bruised and bleeding.
The music screeched to an abrupt, discordant halt. A collective gasp swept through the hall. Conversations died, crystal goblets were frozen halfway to lips. Lilliana and Viviana stopped dancing instantly, Lilliana clutching Viviana's arm, her face pale with shock and fear. Viviana, though outwardly appearing as startled and puzzled as everyone else, felt her senses sharpen, her body tensing, every instinct honed by the Abyss guild going on high alert.
Prince Dominic rose from his seat beside his mother. He moved not with haste, but with a slow, deliberate, almost predatory calm. He drew his sword from its scabbard – a long, lean blade, unadorned but clearly a weapon of deadly purpose. The soft rasp of steel leaving leather was unnaturally loud in the sudden, deathly silence of the hall.
He walked slowly towards the young man, who was now struggling to push himself up, his eyes darting around wildly like a trapped animal.
"Which guild do you hail from?" Dominic's voice was low, calm, and utterly chilling. It cut through the silence like a shard of ice.
The man on the floor, seeing the approaching Prince and the naked steel in his hand, spat defiantly but said nothing.
Dominic continued his unhurried advance.
"No need to speak then. The rather crude mark on your inner wrist, barely visible beneath that tear in your sleeve… the sign of the swan. You're from the Veil Guild, then. A lesser guild, known for its desperation rather than its skill."
The tip of Dominic's sword touched the marble floor, and he dragged it lightly as he continued his slow, inexorable walk. The sound – a faint, high-pitched, scratching screech – grated on every nerve in the room, a prelude to violence. His blue eyes were like chips of frozen sky, devoid of any emotion save for a terrifying, cold focus.
"A rather bold, if foolish, move," Dominic mused, still advancing. "Sending one so young, so… unseasoned. You were sent to assassinate me, I presume? During the banquet, perhaps? To create maximum chaos and embarrassment for the Eldorian crown?"
The young man, trapped and terrified but still clinging to a shred of defiance, finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "If you already possess all the pertinent information, Prince, why do you persist with these pointless questions? Do you enjoy the sound of your own voice before you commit murder?"
A dark, humorless chuckle escaped Dominic's lips. It echoed through the silent room, more menacing than any shout. "Confirmation," he said, now standing directly over the fallen assassin. "I merely enjoy confirming the obvious before… tidying up loose ends." He raised his sword slightly. "You should have chosen a different profession. One with a longer life expectancy."
Before the young man could utter another word, before anyone in the hall could even draw a proper breath, Dominic moved.The sword arced upwards in a single, powerful, inescapable slash.
A horrific, wet, tearing sound filled the air, followed by a choked gurgle from the assassin. A spray of dark crimson erupted, spattering the pristine marble floor and the fine silks of the nearest courtiers, who cried out and recoiled in terror. The young man's body convulsed once, then fell with a heavy, lifeless thud.
But it was not over.
The force of Dominic's strike had been so precise, so powerful, that the assassin's head was severed cleanly from his neck. It tumbled from his shoulders and rolled, sickeningly, across the polished marble floor, its eyes wide and staring with the ultimate shock of death. It spun, wobbled, and then came to a sickening, gentle stop directly at Viviana's feet, its lifeless gaze fixed somewhere near her emerald silk slippers.