Tea

Why am I here? A few days ago, her brother decided to ruin my perfectly peaceful morning, and now she's doing the same. My thoughts flicker back to my blissful morning—just me and my three handsome men—until an invitation to this ridiculous tea party showed up and shattered my tranquility. My mood is simmering, and it's not helped by the fact that I'm stuffed into this suffocating corset and weighed down by this heavy dress. Surrounded by a bunch of ladies I barely talk to, I find myself wishing Helena were here, but of course, she's busy with the final touches on our clothing business.

I take a sip of the bitter tea, grimacing slightly as I glance forward. Grace sits to Stella's left, commanding the center of this oversized table that, for some unfathomable reason, they dragged outside. How did the workers even manage that? Oh wait this is a world full of magic. I'm seated three chairs away from them, too close to be invisible but far enough to feel exiled. Yet, despite the ridiculousness of this situation, there's one small glimmer of joy: Lady Starforge's very obvious, very fake smile.

Grace Brendholm, on the other hand, is the very picture of perfection—irritatingly so. She lives up to her name, Grace She's beautiful, kind, and so effortlessly charming that it's impossible to hate her. Her soft blue hair catches the light in just the right way, and her eyes are filled with that serene kindness that everyone falls for. She's wearing a stunning yellow gown that complements her perfectly, and—oh, how unfortunate—Lady Starforge is wearing a yellow gown too.

I suppress a smile. Lady Starforge might have looked stunning, had Grace not effortlessly stolen the spotlight from her. What a shame.

I'm starting to like this princess. She's clearly putting Lady Starforge in her place, and I can't help but feel a certain satisfaction. Sure, there were a string of fake apologies, but I'd bet Valendor's entire garden that she knew exactly what she was doing showing up in practically the same dress.As the tea party drags on, I watch the mood sour even further on Lady Starforge's face, her fake smiles fading by the minute. Meanwhile, Grace has charmed the rest of the ladies effortlessly. It doesn't hurt that she's got a single royal brother—every lady at this table has the same dream of becoming royalty, after all.

I'm lost in thought when the sound of giggles jolts me back to the present. I glance up to see Luan and the two Brendholm brothers approaching the table. Great. Internally, I sigh. When they arrive, everyone stands out of respect—except for me, of course. The only person I owe that courtesy to is the Emperor.

"Sister, sister," Luan says. The first 'sister' is affectionate, clearly meant for Grace, while the second—much colder—'sister' is directed at me. I offer a nonchalant nod in acknowledgment, rolling my eyes at Stella, who giggles like a child. Gross. But then again, I've never had a twin, so maybe I just don't understand the bond. Their interaction gives off the vibe of a certain set of twins from an Earth show about thrones and games… It's unsettling.

"Likewise," Grace responds to something Luan says, her tone composed and regal, like the perfect royal she is. She exchanges pleasantries with her brothers, and then—ugh—an irritating giggle escapes Lady Starforge. What is she trying to do? It's just embarrassing at this point. 

"I see my fiancé and Jane seem to have a close relationship," Grace suddenly says, her words cutting through the air like a dagger. Drama. At that, Lady Starforge— Jane, apparently—freezes, her eyes wide. Well, at least now I know her name.

"Grace," Luan says, immediately dropping Jane's hand and rushing to soothe his fiancée. The tension is palpable, and the way Grace speaks so lightly, "It was a joke, don't be so on guard," only makes it worse. Luan leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she gives him a small, satisfied smile. How terrifyingly efficient. She's just shut down Lady Starforge with a few well-placed words, and all Jane can do is stand there, frozen. 

I almost feel bad for Jane. Almost. Her future as Luan's concubine looks more miserable by the second, and what makes it even worse is her best friend, Stella, sipping her tea and pretending nothing is happening. How unfortunate indeed.

Shockingly, I find myself actually enjoying my time here—and it's all thanks to Grace. The drama is impeccable. Watching the ladies flutter around the Brendholm princes is downright amusing, like some elaborate dance of desperation and flattery. Their coy smiles and practiced laughter almost make up for the bitter tea I'm forcing down. 

And then, all of a sudden, I hear that familiar, agitating, grating voice, slicing through my bubble of entertainment like nails on a chalkboard.

"What did you say to him?" Luan's voice rings from beside me. He's somehow taken a seat next to me—where did that random noblewoman go? Doesn't matter. I don't bother looking at him, silently hoping that if I pretend he doesn't exist, he'll simply vanish.

"I do not know what you mean, brother," I respond coolly, keeping my gaze forward and my expression neutral. If I ignore him long enough, maybe he'll get bored and leave.

"The younger prince," he continues, clearly not taking the hint. "The mere sound of your name infuriates him."

I stifle a groan and I offer a perfectly innocent reply. "How would I know that?" I ask, my voice dripping with false ignorance. 

I can practically feel him glaring at me, but I'm not about to give him the satisfaction of turning his way. 

"You really shouldn't be like this. You just might die old, lonely, and alone," Luan says, his voice dripping with fake sweetness, the kind that grates on my nerves. 

I scoff, rolling my eyes at his ridiculousness. "You and I both know that I will definitely not be lonely or alone," I retort, leaning back in my chair with a smug smile playing on my lips.