Chương 82: Chapter 80 Edited

Princess Talena Security at the palace had tightened since the incident which left a vacation villa destroyed, a number of staff, knights, and security personnel dead, and a strange new sense of clarity in its wake. My nightmares move between the faces of those lost and the image of him walking away and leaving me behind. It was not exactly pleasant. The incident at Caelum Virex had shaken those who knew, and most people had no idea of the extent of what the attack had actually created.

My father was trying to keep it that way. Without context, people attempted to understand it through the only means available to them. Hearsay and rumor, some through magical means, mostly hearsay and rumor. People preferred to frame what happened as something contained and expected, something that fit cleanly into reports and briefings. Those who were better informed debated whether the attack had been an attempted kidnapping or an assassination.

There had been many nights of discussion, and as the months passed, the distinction mattered far less than anyone was willing to admit. I did not care about any of that. My concern, my desire, was squarely on seeing him again. If I was being honest, if everyone was being honest, we all knew that if he had not appeared when he did, I would not be here. That conclusion required no speculation. At best I would have been taken and used. At worst, assaulted and discarded. Neither outcome held much appeal.

"You are fidgeting," Mira said quietly beside me.

"Stop." I did not look at her.

"It is my party," I replied.

"I will fidget if I want to."

"It is a state function, not your party," she said, adjusting the fall of my sleeve with careful precision.

"You will behave accordingly." She said it with force and affection. I sighed and willed my hands still. The corridor ahead opened toward the main hall, and the difference in security was immediately visible. Royal Knights stood at measured intervals, each one encased in full Aura-forged, Technica-assisted armor. These were not ceremonial suits. They were the principal instruments of organized battle power within the Dominion.

The armor rose above the men inside it, reinforced and layered until the distinction between soldier and construct blurred. Each suit stood nearly two meters tall and carried the mass to match, its frame broad and deliberate, designed to absorb punishment and return it with overwhelming force. The plating was thick, interlocked, shaped to deflect and endure.

Technica systems ran beneath the surface, integrated with independent mana architecture, while Aura reinforcement generated through an Expression Engine bound the entire structure together into something that felt less like equipment and more like an extension of will. Mana moved through the armor in steady controlled channels that did not flicker or flare. There was no wasted energy or excess display. Everything about the suits spoke of discipline and efficiency. These were not weapons in the traditional sense.

These were platforms of force. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. While individuals like the members of the Twelve, the Storm Weaver, the Saint of the Sun, or the Ghost of the Wastes existed on another level entirely, these suits represented what the Dominion relied on when it chose to bring power to bear in a structured, undeniable way. They were not there for decoration. They were there so that no one in the room would forget what the Dominion could do.

Normally the Guard presented a more restrained profile inside the palace. Lighter configurations, less war machine, more quiet overwatch. Something that balanced dignity with practicality. Since the incident, tonight included, that balance had not existed. My father had chosen overwhelming presence, and anyone with eyes would understand the message. We are prepared. I drew a slow breath as we reached the doors.

"Hold," Mira said.

"I am holding."

"You are thinking too loudly."

"I am allowed to think."

"You are allowed to do it quietly. He is going to be here, and you should not go overboard. That is what led to him wrecking half the palace at Caelum Virex. Be calm. Let me see that you are a princess."

"I am a freaking princess," I said with a pout. The doors opened before I could say anything further.

"Her Royal Highness, Talena Aurion, First Princess of the Dominion of Vera and Knight-Errant." The announcement carried cleanly across the hall. I stepped forward. The room was designed to direct attention, and it did so efficiently. Light reflected upward from polished mayrock, catching along the lines of the architecture and creating an open concept that still felt intimate.

Chandeliers of infused crystal suspended above us threaded controlled mana through the air, furthering that intimate appeal with soft bluish-white light that was both captivating and alluring. Nothing in the room was accidental. Spacing between tables allowed movement without crowding. Sightlines remained open. Every position in the room offered visibility while limiting vulnerability. Every person present turned to look at me in a controlled wave of attention that moved outward from the entrance.

Nobles from across the Dominion, and allies from outside it, held themselves with practiced composure, and their eyes lingered just long enough to evaluate before shifting away. I walked forward without breaking stride. The gown moved with me, the mana-thread woven into the fabric catching the light with each step. It framed my shoulders and waist with careful precision, emphasizing form without diminishing authority. I walked like a goddess descending. I am not being arrogant. I am aware of how I look.

I am also aware that this was the point. A symbol does not choose when it is seen. It performs. I passed a cluster of foreign envoys, their expressions measured and polite. One of the younger diplomats inclined his head slightly, offering acknowledgment without stepping into my path. I did not return the gesture. This was not an evening for informal courtesies. Tonight was a night for positioning as more serious political events approached.

A preliminary measure before the negotiations that would follow at the tournament, all in the shadow of an oncoming war. Alliances would not be declared here, and they would begin here. Strength would not be tested openly, and it would be assessed. I continued toward the center of the hall, aware of how attention shifted with movement. The comparison formed before I could stop it. I felt like something brightly displayed, arranged to be observed from every angle and interpreted according to the needs of the viewer.

The thought settled uneasily, mainly because it was not entirely true, and not entirely incorrect either. I was here to be seen. To reassure those who needed reassurance. To unsettle those who required it. To stand within a room full of power and demonstrate that the Dominion remained stable. I held my posture steady as I reached the center of the hall. The performance came naturally. It always had. Beneath it, something else remained.

A quieter thread of attention that did not belong to the room, or the nobles, or the carefully constructed balance of the evening. I had felt him once. That memory had not faded. When our mana had touched, even briefly, it had carried something I had not mistaken then and would not mistake now. There had been no hesitation in it, no uncertainty, only a clear and deliberate intention. He had chosen to stand between me and harm, not because I was a princess, though I was a very visible and very desired one.

He stepped in front of me because it was the most natural thing to do. I was there and innocent. And to my total disbelief, that difference mattered. Which was why, even as I smiled and allowed the room to read what it needed to read, my attention remained divided. This entire evening, every light and every voice, felt secondary to a single expectation. He said he would come, and I was simply waiting for that moment.