The Everhart Palace had hosted countless celebrations across generations, but tonight's banquet carried an atmosphere sharper than any ceremonial blade. It was not a simple celebration; it was a political battlefield draped in velvet and gold. The chandeliers glowed with crystalline brilliance, the marble floors reflected ripples of light, and a soft orchestra played at the far end—yet beneath all that elegance lurked the low hum of scandal, betrayal, ambition, and opportunity.
And at the very center of it all stood **Princess Celestia Seraphina de Everhart**, draped in a deep sapphire evening gown that shimmered under the light like stardust. Her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, pinned with silver accents shaped like crescent moons. Her expression was calm, poised, almost unbothered—yet her eyes revealed razor-sharp awareness. Every noble was calculating her; every noble was also being calculated by her in return.
This banquet wasn't held for merriment.
