As the sun dipped below the horizon, Alara and Rasa hurried down the temple's outer steps, their footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone. At the foot of the temple, Senior Priest Elias stood waiting, accompanied by five other temple officials, none of whom Alara and Rasa knew well. One of the officials, an older man with a stern expression, cast a disapproving glance at the two girls before turning away to prepare for the walk to the castle.

Elias stepped forward, his dark blue ceremonial robes exchanged for a more formal suit, his white hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. He looked at the two young women, nodding briefly. "I see you are dressed appropriately, Rasa," he said, his tone even.

Rasa shifted uneasily, unsure how to respond. Before she could utter a word, Alara stepped in, her voice filled with confidence as she took Rasa's hand and pulled her close. "She comes as my guest, Senior Priest," Alara declared, her gaze steady. "Long have I considered her a member of my family, yet she has never been properly introduced to my blood relatives. Tonight, I wish to rectify that."

Elias studied them for a moment, then nodded, the lines on his face softening slightly. "Very well. As you vouch for her, I see no issue." Alara's face broke into a smile, and beside her, Rasa let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, a wave of relief washing over her.

The group began the journey up the cobblestone path to the castle, which nestled into the mountainous terrain beside the shore. Alara looped her arm through Rasa's, holding her close as they walked, ignoring the curious onlookers who peeked out from their windows to watch the procession. As they moved farther from the crowded streets, the houses gave way to tall trees, the sounds of the forest enveloping them in a symphony of chirping insects and rustling leaves. To Alara, it was a comforting reminder of the world beyond her responsibilities, a place she sometimes dreamed of escaping to, even if she knew it was a fleeting fantasy.

Finally, they reached the stone bridge that spanned the chasm separating the castle from the rest of the forest. Guards in golden armor bowed to the temple officials as they crossed, and Alara and Rasa returned the gesture with polite nods. Unable to resist her curiosity, Rasa peered over the edge of the bridge, her eyes widening at the dizzying sight below. The river wound its way far beneath them, the distance turning the water into little more than a whispering ribbon, though its roar crashing over the rocks below hinted at its true power. Rasa quickly pulled her gaze away, her heart racing at the thought of how far they were from solid ground.

As they crossed the bridge, the towering stone walls of the Grand Palace of Emeresia loomed closer, the structure coming fully into view. Nestled into the cliffside, the palace appeared imposing and immovable, carved out of polished white marble that gleamed under the fading sunlight. Golden banners bearing the crest of Emeresia—a silver dove soaring above the waves—flanked the grand entrance, adding to the regal atmosphere of the scene.

Alara felt her heart skip a beat, her grip on Rasa's arm tightening to steady herself. She reminded herself of tonight's purpose—a display of power, a political spectacle—and knew she could not afford to show any vulnerability. She glanced at Rasa, who met her gaze with a reassuring nod. Together, they stepped forward, ready to face whatever the evening had in store.

The girls entered the grand entrance after the rest of the temple officials. Footmen in navy and gold livery began to escort them further through the halls into a vast dining chamber. The scent of roasted meats and rich spices filled the air around them, accompanied by the delicate notes of a harp played by a slim woman in the back corner in a thin blue dressing gown.

"Alara!" A voice behind the crowd called out, filled with eager affection.

There, she saw her brother, Crown Prince Davian, hurrying to greet her as the nobles parted like the sea in stories of old. His dark hair was combed neatly back, and his youthful features bore a confident smirk. Though he was only a year her junior, he exuded a sense of authority that made Alara both proud and, at times, uneasy.

"Brother," Alara greeted him with a warm but restrained smile. She dipped her head slightly, and he mirrored her gesture with a mocking grin.

"Always the proper one," Davian teased. "Come now, Alara, we're family." He closed the distance between them, giving her a brief but firm hug that pulled her away from Rasa's arm. Then he pulled back, his eyes falling on Rasa, now standing quietly beside his sister. His eyes lit up, and his lips curled into an intrigued smile.

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"Who is this lovely companion?" he asked, bowing dramatically and taking Rasa's hand. "I don't believe we've met before."

Rasa blushed and bowed her head. "I have not had the pleasure, my Lord."

"Rasa is my friend," Alara added, her tone protective yet teasing. "She accompanies me tonight."

Davian pressed a light kiss to Rasa's knuckles, his gaze lingering. "Charmed. You should join us more often," he said. "The court could use a new face."

Alara stepped forward, extracting Rasa's hand from her brother's grasp. "Leave her alone, Davian. And you—avoid him if you can. He's relentless."

Rasa chuckled, giving Davian a playful gaze. "I will."

Davian raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "As you wish, dear sister." With a wink, he excused himself, disappearing back into the crowd of nobles.

Slowly, the guests began to surround the long banquet table in the center of the room. Alara took her place near the end, and Rasa stood at the chair next to her. Davian sat near the opposite end, next to the oversized, elaborately carved throne-like chair at the end that was far more ornate than any others. The crowd started to hush, and a herald stepped forward, his voice booming across the hall.

"His Majesty, King Mikayel Markarian, King of Emeresia!"

All heads bowed, and the grand double doors swung open. The King entered, his stride solid and purposeful. He was a man in his sixties, his hair streaked with gray, his sharp gaze scanning the gathered guests with authority. A trimmed goatee framed his lips, and his white suit with a blue sash and golden trim reflected the flickering light of the golden chandeliers.

He nodded once, and the people raised their heads and briefly applauded. Alara's heart tightened in her chest, and momentarily, her eyes met her father's. He gave her a slight nod, acknowledging her presence before he moved to take his seat. All the others in the room also took their seats when he sat.

The King raised his glass, his voice deep and unwavering. "I am glad to see our temple's esteemed leaders here again tonight," he said, his gaze traveling across the faces gathered around the table. "Our kingdom again faces dire times, and I value the wisdom of our spiritual leaders. Let us feast, and afterward, we shall speak of matters that concern us all."

The nobles and officials lifted their glasses in a toast, their voices joining in unison. "To the king's health!"

Alara took a deep breath as she clinked her glass against Rasa's. Tonight was about more than just ceremony—it was a test, a step into the world she had always struggled to fit into.

Alara ate sparingly, barely touching the food on her plate despite its quality. Rasa watched her as she ate her food, then leaned over and whispered, "Are you not enjoying your food?"

Alara quickly shook her head. "No, it's really good. It's just... hard to have an appetite here," she admitted.

Rasa nodded, glancing toward Davian. "Your brother seems friendly. He's almost like a puppy."

Alara looked over at Davian. When her eyes met him, he waved from where he leaned on the table, his grin exposing the food in his mouth. She laughed softly and turned back to Rasa. "Dog is accurate. He has poor manners for a prince."

Rasa grinned. "How old is he?"

"Twenty-one," Alara replied, absentmindedly spinning a piece of broccoli she had stabbed with her fork.

"Ah," Rasa answered with a smile. "He's too young for me."

Alara rolled her eyes. "There's no way you were considering him, not with him chewing his food like that."

Rasa shrugged. "Everyone likes the idea of marrying a prince, no?"

Alara laughed. "Not me. They're far too haughty."

Rasa nodded toward Alara's father. "And what about him?"

Alara sighed, her eyes drifting toward the King. "I don't think many truly get to know His Majesty."

Eventually, the King stood, signaling the end of the feast. Slowly, everyone stood and followed him into a neighboring large foyer room Alara recognized as where they always conducted their business. The chamber was even more expansive than the banquet hall, with high vaulted ceilings and beautiful tapestries hanging from the walls.

Alara watched her father settle into his place, surrounded by his advisors and felt a familiar pang of disconnection. Davian walked up to Rasa, gently pulling her aside for a moment. Alara considered following them but instead chose to slip out to an open balcony at the room's far end. She stepped into the night air, grateful for the cool breeze that washed over her face. From there, she could see the streets of Eldralore in the distance, and the trees below rustled softly in the wind, all bathed in the soft silver glow of moonlight. Yet something felt strange—an unnatural quietness hung over everything.

"Trying to escape business, sister?" Davian's familiar teasing voice broke her reverie. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, his contagious smile bright across his face. Rasa stood slightly to the left of the doorframe, following Davian but keeping her distance to allow Alara and Davian a private moment.

"Is that what this is?" he added, stepping onto the balcony beside her.

"Davian," Alara spoke softly, her gaze shifting downward. "Does it not seem too quiet to you?"

He frowned, leaning forward across the balcony to listen closely. "What do you mean?"

"There are no crickets, no birds," she said, her eyes narrowing at the darkened tree line. "There are no sounds at all in the forest tonight."

Before Davian could respond, an arrow whizzed past his head, embedding itself in the doorframe behind him and landing inches from Rasa's head.