Chapitre 23: You clean up nice
Stepping out of my room, the click of my heels against the polished floor echoed through the hall. My breath hitched slightly, and my fingers gripped the folds of the gown tighter than they should.
Standing just ahead, my family waited, and I had the sinking realization that I was far from ready for this.
My mother stood at the center, regal and poised in a gown of flowing emerald green. The fabric shimmered subtly under the warm glow of the chandeliers, delicate golden embroidery curling and twisting like vines up from the hem to her waist.
The gown itself was a marvel its long train followed her every step like a shadow, rippling elegantly across the floor. Her auburn hair, rich and glossy, was gathered in a perfect bun, emerald jewels threaded throughout, glinting as she tilted her head to look at me.
She was every inch a queen, or at least she could have been in another life. Her soft features radiated calm authority, but I caught the flicker of worry in her green eyes as they met mine.
To her right, my father loomed tall and stoic. His suit was sharp, the black fabric cutting a striking figure against the brighter hues around us.
Silver trimmings lined the edges of his coat and cuffs, catching the light with every small movement he made. His expression was as serious as ever, his stern brow furrowed as he observed me.
Despite the heaviness in the air, there was a quiet warmth about him, the slightest softening in his eyes when he looked at me.
His stance was commanding, shoulders squared, feet planted firmly. If my mother was grace and regality, my father was power and discipline. I could always feel his presence, even without looking at him.
And then, of course, there was Galen. My brother had always exuded an effortless charm that I could never quite understand.
Tonight was no different. He stood there in deep blue attire, the fabric rich and textured, accentuating his broad shoulders and slim waist. His jacket was fastened with intricate silver clasps, the collar high, giving him an air of dignified elegance.
His hair always neatly styled was swept back, every strand in place. He radiated confidence, standing with a hand tucked casually in his pocket, a relaxed grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he noticed me.
His blue eyes sparkled with mischief, as they always did, though tonight there was something else in them a hint of brotherly concern, maybe?
"You clean up nice," Galen teased, his grin widening as his gaze swept over my gown. "Even if it took an army to squeeze you into that thing."
I shot him a glare, feeling my cheeks flush. "Shut up," I muttered, though a small part of me was thankful for his humor. It eased the tension, if only slightly.
But the tension was still there, lingering thickly in the air, especially as my eyes drifted toward the grand entrance.
The carriage was waiting for us outside, its gleaming surface catching the evening light. It wasn't just any carriage.
This one was fit for royalty, ornately decorated with intricate gold detailing along the black wood, every line and curve meticulously designed to showcase wealth and power.
The wheels were huge, polished to a mirror-like shine, and the horses, tall and proud, wore bridles of gilded leather.
Anxiety clawed at me. The thought of stepping inside that carriage, riding toward the royal castle, made my stomach churn. What was I doing here? I still wasn't ready.
"We should go," my father's deep voice rumbled, pulling me from my thoughts. He extended his arm to my mother, who gracefully looped hers through his, and together they began their descent toward the carriage.
Galen followed, walking with the kind of nonchalant ease that only he could muster. I took a breath and forced my legs to move, the weight of the gown making every step feel heavier.
The air was cool as we stepped outside, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the courtyard. I took in the sight of the carriage once more, heart pounding. There was no turning back now.
Inside the carriage, the space was just as luxurious as the exterior. Plush seats lined the walls, embroidered with gold thread, and the interior glowed with the warm hue of polished wood and velvet.
My mother sat gracefully, her hands folded in her lap, her expression serene. My father, ever the pillar of stoic calm, sat beside her, his eyes occasionally flicking toward me with a quiet intensity.
Galen sprawled out comfortably, as though this was just another ordinary ride, his arm casually draped over the back of the seat. I, on the other hand, could feel my heart racing in my chest.
The carriage jolted slightly as we set off, the horses' hooves clattering against the cobblestones. My family engaged in casual conversation, my mother and father speaking in low, steady tones about the banquet and the people we were likely to meet.
Galen chimed in with a few lighthearted comments, but I remained unusually quiet. The knot of anxiety in my chest only grew as we neared our destination.
I glanced out the window, watching as the world passed by in a blur. The city streets slowly gave way to sprawling estates, each more opulent than the last, until finally, the towering spires of the royal castle came into view. My breath caught in my throat. I had seen the castle before, but never like this.
The castle was immense. It rose up from the earth like a giant, its walls made of pristine white stone that gleamed under the setting sun. Towering spires reached for the sky, their tips gilded in gold, shimmering as if touched by magic.
Massive windows adorned the walls, their golden accents glinting in the light, and the grand entrance flanked by stone statues of roaring lions was enough to make anyone feel small.
As we approached, the drawbridge lowered with a groan, the massive chains clanking as they moved. My pulse quickened.
The castle loomed larger and larger as we passed through the gates and entered the courtyard. Servants stood at attention, ready to open the carriage doors as we arrived.
When the doors finally opened, my father stepped out first, helping my mother down with a practiced grace. Galen followed, offering me a smirk as he extended a hand. "Ready for your grand entrance?" he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Not even a little bit," I replied, though I took his hand and stepped out of the carriage, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me.
The grand entrance hall was even more breathtaking than the exterior. Everything sparkled. The floors were made of polished marble, so pristine that I could see my reflection in them.
Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room. Lavish tapestries lined the walls, depicting scenes of historical battles, royal coronations, and majestic landscapes.
Every detail was immaculate, from the intricate carvings on the columns to the rich, velvety curtains that framed the massive windows.
But before I could take it all in, my attention was drawn to the grand staircase. Standing at the top, dressed in a deep royal blue robe adorned with shimmering gold accents, was the king himself.
His presence commanded the room, tall and regal, with silver streaks in his dark hair and piercing eyes that surveyed the gathering crowd.
"Here is my son and daughter," the king's voice boomed, echoing through the hall. The crowd stilled, all eyes turning toward the top of the staircase.
The weight of the moment pressed down on me, my heart hammering in my chest as I realized what was coming next.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone