The hush that swept through the ballroom was absolute.
Every gaze lifted toward the grand staircase, where Lady Charlotte Cavendish stood motionless at the top step, radiant and poised. She wore a gown of brilliant white satin, intricately embroidered with diamonds and glimmering stones that shimmered beneath the golden light of the chandeliers. Perfect gloves matched the gown, hugging her arms like silk spun from moonlight.
The bodice was sculpted to perfection, flattering her figure with elegant restraint, while the voluminous skirt trailed behind her in waves like a ripple of light. Her dark hair had been swept into an elegant updo, with a few deliberate curls brushing her nape. A single jeweled hairpin shaped like a star held it all together. And around her neck, her wrists, her ears, designer jewels sparkled with quiet power.
A breath passed. Then another.
And then she descended.
Each step was slow, deliberate, unhurried. Her chin was lifted, her face unreadable, and her gaze, those piercing, intelligent eyes swept across the gathered lords and ladies with quiet command.
At the far end of the ballroom, Caspian let out a low whistle, his gaze fixed on the vision before him.
"Well, there's your spectacle," he murmured, lifting his glass.
Sophia took a slow sip of wine, the corners of her lips twitching upward. "Finally," she said with satisfaction. "I knew my friend wouldn't disappoint. This is going to be a night to remember."
Across the ballroom, Lady Adriana faltered mid-curtsy. Her smile stiffened as her fan trembled slightly in her grasp. The Emperor stood beside her, still as stone, while the Empress Dowager's expression darkened.
"I thought her dress was ruined," Victoria muttered under her breath, her sharp eyes following Lola's descent.
"She planned this," Adriana whispered, her voice tight with restrained fury. "She orchestrated everything."
Victoria's scowl deepened. "I don't like this at all. She's taken the attention that was meant for you."
The Emperor hadn't spoken, hadn't even blinked. His gaze was locked solely on Lola.
She looked like a vision from a dream, too beautiful to be real. His lips parted before he could stop himself.
"Lola…" he murmured, almost to himself.
The whispers started, soft at first, then spreading like wildfire across the floor.
"She's wearing white…"
"Wasn't her dress destroyed?"
"How did she manage this?"
"She looks more like an empress than…"
"No wonder the Emperor is enchanted. She's… stunning."
Adriana's grip tightened until the edge of her fan cracked between her fingers. A thousand dark thoughts swirled in her mind, each one sharper than the last.
"I should have her thrown into the dungeons," she muttered.
"Keep your face neutral, woman," Victoria hissed. "You're already losing ground. Don't let the court see your jealousy."
Adriana swallowed her rage, forcing a smile, though her eyes burned with hatred.
As Lola reached the bottom step, the courtiers parted for her like the sea, some bowing their heads, others simply staring. She walked forward with quiet confidence, her every movement as fluid as a dance, until she stood directly before the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and Lady Adriana.
She dipped into a graceful curtsy, her gown fanning around her like a pool of light.
"Your Majesty. Your Highness. Lady Adriana," she said, her tone soft but unwavering, her smile faintly amused.
A beat of silence followed, tense, heavy.
Then the Emperor took a step forward.
"I believe the next dance is mine," he said, extending his hand.
Adriana's breath hitched. Victoria blinked. The ballroom collectively held its breath.
Lola looked at him, her gaze steady and placed her hand gently into his.
And just like that, the world began to spin again.