Tales of Neglected ones

Seraphina pov

The grand doors to the Imperial Banquet Hall opened with quiet grace, revealing a world of soft gold and polished marble. Light spilled out onto the corridor as Seraphina stepped inside, her pale blue gown fluttering gently at her ankles.

She paused.

Just for a moment.

The sight before her was unlike anything she had ever seen in person.

The chandeliers above spun slowly, sending gentle patterns of light across the floor. Banners in rich crimson and deep black draped the high columns, embroidered with the golden crest of the Imperial Family. The sound of strings and flutes floated through the air, calm and warm like a breeze on a spring evening.

The tables shimmered with silverware, crystal goblets, and carefully arranged fruits and sweets. The scent of roses and honey filled the room without overwhelming it.

Seraphina took another step forward, composed and quiet.

She had imagined this place many times—but this felt better than any story. Not grand in a cold way, but beautiful in a way that made people slow down and simply look.

---

Among Nobles

The hall was already alive with movement.

Noble children stood in graceful clusters—talking softly, exchanging polite glances. Seraphina recognized many of them.

Lady Eleria of Luneblight stood near the left wing, her silver gown catching the light. The Eirwyn twins, Elanor and Elandor, whispered something near the refreshment table, and Talia of Thorneval smiled as a vine at her wrist bloomed into a flower.

Seraphina didn't try to stand out.

She simply stood with quiet posture, her chin lifted slightly, her steps smooth and measured.

She noticed a few glances toward her—not sharp, just curious.

She didn't mind.

She wasn't here to impress.

But she did want to carry her family's name with care.

---

A Gentle Reminder

She thought of her parents back home. Of her mother helping her choose her gown. Of her father's calm voice before she left:

"You don't have to shine. Just be steady."

That was all she needed.

She didn't want attention.

She just didn't want to stumble.

And so she stood quietly, watching the soft swirl of silk and laughter around her. She kept her hands folded gently in front of her and let herself breathe in the moment.

Then the hall shifted.

---

The Arrival

A quiet chime rang out.

A knight stepped forward and struck his staff once against the floor. The sound echoed gently—clear and calm.

"Presenting Their Imperial Majesties—Emperor Caelan Valeburne, Empress Lysandra Valeburne, and His Highness Crown Prince Orin."

The great doors at the head of the hall opened slowly.

A hush fell over the room.

Seraphina turned her eyes toward the entrance.

The Emperor walked first—tall, dressed in a deep crimson coat lined with silver. The Empress followed beside him, her gown flowing like starlight. And between them, Crown Prince Orin walked with a calm expression, his twelfth birthday crown resting lightly on his dark hair.

As they entered, something shifted in the air.

The gravity around the hall gently deepened.

Not crushing. Not sharp. But present—like invisible hands pressing down with soft weight.

Some nobles shifted slightly. A few younger guests blinked in surprise. Even the chandeliers seemed to hang just a little lower.

But Seraphina felt nothing at all.

Not even a tug on her sleeves or the weight of her shoes.

She glanced slightly to her right.

Just behind her stood Lord Virellia—her father.

He said nothing.

He didn't look at her.

But she could feel it.

His mana, quiet and steady, had wrapped softly around her—like a warm shawl on a cool evening. A silent shield that kept the weight of gravity from touching her.

Not loud. Not forceful.

Just... present.

Just like him.

---

Grateful and Still

Seraphina didn't say anything.

She didn't turn.

She simply stayed where she was, calm and steady, as the Royal Family walked toward the thrones.

She wasn't shaken.

She wasn't overwhelmed.

Because someone had made sure she wouldn't have to be.

Her father didn't ask for thanks. He never did.

And Seraphina didn't offer words. She didn't need to.

But quietly, in her heart, she promised herself:

I will carry our name with care.

Not to prove anything.

Just because it mattered to her.

---

As the music returned and the hall began to move once more, Seraphina stood tall and still—her heart calm, her thoughts clear, and her gaze steady beneath the chandelier's soft light.

Tonight, she would simply be herself.

And that was enough.

End of chapter