After that, the once curious, shy child turned sharp. Rebellious. Violent.
She cursed, threw things, had servants punished for the smallest of mistakes.
Evelyn screamed, threw things, cursed. Not because she was wicked. But because that was the only time people looked at her.
And even then—only in fear.
The servants did their jobs out of dread. Not loyalty. Not kindness. Because if they didn't, a porcelain vase might fly at their heads. Or worse, Evelyn might lash out with cruel precision.
Because she had no other weapon.
Fear had become her armor.
Rage, her blade.
Had she been meek, had she cried quietly in a corner, she would've been crushed. Eaten alive by the noble's hunger for weakness.
But instead, she survived.
The servants obeyed her every word. Out of fear, yes—but at least she was not ignored or looked down upon.
Even if she was labeled arrogant, selfish, and willful, it was because of these traits that she survived and refused to be trampled by anyone.
Fear became the survival method of a child.
———
The preparation began in earnest.
The wardrobe was ransacked. Fabrics flown across couches. Hairpins gleamed like stars across the table. The girls were aflame with excitement.
Melinda: "She should wear sapphire. It brings out the sharpness in her eyes."
Lora: "But gold embroidery will make her glow like nobility."
Cassy: "What about both? A sapphire dress with golden thread. And those shoes with the crystal flowers on them..."
Ella: "I think black or white would be good too. After all, the princess is so beautiful that she'll shine no matter what she wears."
Lily practically danced across the room, lifting dresses to Evelyn's face, squealing every few seconds.
Evelyn watched them bickering over color palettes and fabrics with a strange warmth blooming inside her chest.
It was new. Quiet. Like sunlight under cold water.
Evelyn sat with Shadow curled in her lap, brushing her fingers through his soft black fur. Her eyes followed the others, watching them buzz around her like guardian bees.
Evelyn quietly murmurs to Shadow,
Evelyn: "They're going to give me a headache before the banquet even starts…"
Shadow purred.
She didn't stop them.
Because despite everything, their energy warmed the room.
The palace had always been a place of quiet war, but for once, it felt like a home.
The fire in Cassy and Ella's eyes only grew brighter.
Cassy: "This banquet… we'll make them regret ever ignoring her."
Ella: "We'll make the palace burn with envy."
And Evelyn, still petting her cat, gave a long, resigned sigh.
The countdown to the banquet had begun.
[Flashback ~ A Few Years Ago]
A three-and-a-half-year-old Evelyn stood silently outside the grand doors of the Empress's chamber. Her tiny fingers clutched a small wooden toy soldier—something she had picked out herself. A gift. For her mother.
She had waited there for hours.
The corridor was cold, the palace silent, and still—she stood, hopeful.
But the doors never opened.
Instead, a maid stepped out, her tone clipped and cold.
"Her Majesty doesn't wish to see anyone."
Not even her daughter.
She clutched the toy soldier tightly in her small hand. She turned away, her steps quiet.
Later that night, she threw it into the fireplace.
And didn't look back.
———
Now, the seven-year-old her stood in front of the mirror, calm and composed as the girls fluttered around her in preparation for a banquet she had never dreamed of being invited to.
But she is no longer that abandoned child.
She no longer cares about the so-called mother's affection anymore.
Time passed like wind slipping through fingers, and soon—
It was the day of the birthday banquet.
The Day of the Banquet – Early Morning
The sun hadn't yet risen fully when Cassy and the others burst into Evelyn's room, bright-eyed and brimming with excitement.
they came armed with many neatly folded fabrics, brushes, and ribbons. Lora opened the curtains wide, letting golden morning light spill into the room.
Blanketed in warmth and sleep, Evelyn rubbed her eyes, blinking at the sudden commotion.
Her voice was dry and half-asleep.
Evelyn: "The banquet starts in the evening… Why are you waking me when even the rooster's still asleep?"
Cassy put her hands on her hips, as serious as a commander preparing for battle.
Cassy: "Because we have to start early if we want you to be the most breathtaking person in that hall."
Evelyn: "Seriously?"
Cassy: "Get up quickly, Your Highness. We need to prepare you. Hurry!"
Evelyn groaned, pulling the covers tighter around her.
Evelyn: "I'm not getting up."
But Cassy was determined. She reached out and gently pulled Evelyn upright—leaving no room for negotiation.
Evelyn stumbled upright, still half-asleep, her hair a tousled mess of soft curls.
Evelyn: "You're cruel... I shouldn't have accepted that invitation."
Cassy: "Too late. Let's begin."
At that moment, Melinda appeared at the door, balancing a tray with warm tea and honeyed rolls.
Melinda: "First, let her eat something. She'll need strength to survive what's coming."
Lora chuckled from across the room.
Lora: "And by 'what's coming,' she means Cassy in full stylist mode."
Cassy: "You say that like it's a bad thing."
She was already rifling through the gowns laid out across the room like an artist facing a blank canvas. Fabrics shimmered—sapphire, black, white—each one chosen with painstaking care the night before.
Cassy: "We'll start with a bath. Then your dresd, then hair. We don't have a minute to waste."
Evelyn: "I feel like a doll being prepared for display…"
Ella, brushing through strands of ribbons and hairpins, looked up with a smile.
Ella: "A very important doll. One who's about to show the entire palace what true elegance looks like."
Lily: "We've narrowed it down to three dress options—but we may need to try all of them. Just in case."
Evelyn: "You all act like I'm getting married, not attending a banquet."
Lily: "With how radiant you'll look, people might start proposing."
Evelyn: "Please. I haven't even eaten yet."
Cassy: "There's no time. Eat later."
Cassy gently guided Evelyn to the chair by the vanity while the others swarmed the room like a cheerful storm. Ribbons, pins, brushes, and fabric seemed to fly in all directions, each girl handling a task with the intensity of a sacred mission.
Cassy: "Sit. Let us make a goddess out of you."
Evelyn: "I'm fine as a mortal."
Lily: "Too late. You belong to us now."
Evelyn: "Fine. Let's get it over with."
Evelyn sighed, finally relenting, allowing them to work their magic.