The Grand Ballroom glittered with golden chandeliers, the air thick with perfume and murmured conversations. Nobles in silks and jewels danced, laughed, and exchanged pleasantries while servants moved swiftly through the crowd with trays of wine and delicacies.
Then like a blade cutting through music—the deep voice of Emperor Valerius Valtaris rang out across the hall.
Instantly, silence fell.
Valerius strode forward with regal command, his tall frame draped in white and gold, his golden eyes sharp as steel. At his side walked his youngest daughter, Princess Liana, her hand resting lightly in his.
“As all here know,” Valerius began, his voice measured, carrying to every corner of the vast chamber, “this night marks the debut of my beloved daughter, Liana Valtaris. Today, she celebrates her eighteenth year… and with it, her awakening. The light of magic now flows within her veins.”
Polite applause swelled through the hall. Nobles bowed their heads and whispered to one another with admiration.
“Truly blessed by the heavens…” “The Princess of Light…” “Worthy of her lineage…”
But then the Emperor’s expression hardened. The warmth in his tone vanished, replaced with iron.
“Yet,” he continued, his gaze sweeping across the silent crowd, “there remains a bitter truth. My firstborn, Yarissa, though of rightful age, has not awakened their power. Year after year, I have waited… but the blood of Valtaris runs silent within them.”
A hush swept through the hall, followed by murmurs that rustled like vultures circling prey. Eyes turned toward Yarissa, pitying, scornful, curious.
Valerius raised a hand, silencing the whispers. His voice was cold, absolute.
“As Emperor, I cannot ignore what is plain before us. An heir without magic cannot hope to lead the Aurean Empire. Thus, for the good of the realm, I hereby declare Liana Valtaris shall stand as my successor. From this night forth, she is Crown Princess.”
Gasps erupted. Some nobles exchanged alarmed glances; others bent their heads in uneasy acceptance. One bolder lord stepped forward, bowing low yet speaking out.
“Your Imperial Majesty, forgive my boldness… but such a decree cannot be made in haste. Their Highness Yarissa is your firstborn. Should this not be deliberated with the court? At the very least, with them?”
The Emperor’s gaze turned upon him sharp, unyielding.
“You dare question the will of your sovereign?” Valerius’s voice, though calm, carried the weight of thunder. “I will not gamble the future of Aurea upon weakness. Bloodline alone is not enough. Strength must prove itself or it is unworthy of the throne.”
The noble fell silent, retreating under the Emperor’s golden stare.
Even Liana, startled, gripped her father’s hand more tightly. Her voice trembled with unease. “Father… perhaps you should first speak with my elder sibling—”
Valerius’s expression softened as he looked at her, his tone shifting into gentle affection. “My dearest child, you need not concern yourself. A father knows what is best for his house… and for his empire.”
Then, his gaze swept back across the room, fixing at last upon Yarissa, who stood among the nobles in the center of the hall. His golden eyes were cold, impenetrable.
“I trust you understand, Yarissa,” Valerius said, his voice carrying to every corner. “This decision is not born of cruelty, but of duty. It is for the empire’s strength—for its survival. In time, you will see that it is so.”
The silence that followed was heavier than stone, pressing down upon the hall as every noble waited for Yarissa’s reply.
