CHAPTER 176: A SCROLL, A FLASH, AND THE UNIVERSE

[Lavinia’s Pov—Imperial Palace—Banquet Hall]

"Let’s go, Osric," I murmured, my fingers curling around his warm hand.

"It’s time," he replied softly, the corners of his lips lifting into a small, reassuring smile.

The double doors swung open with a slow, deliberate creak, letting in a wash of golden light from the banquet hall. Marshi trotted beside me, his paws clicking against the marble floor, his silken fur brushing against the hem of my gown.

Solena was perched up on him, proudly.

We stepped forward together—Osric’s hand still clasping mine—as though the air itself parted for our passage. Every conversation died. Heads turned.

Eyes widened.

Gasps slipped through painted lips.

The scent of roses from the hall’s towering arrangements mingled with the faint chill of the corridor behind me, making the moment feel suspended in time.

"By the stars... she’s breathtaking tonight," a woman’s voice trembled in awe.

"Look at the way her gown shimmers—it’s like moonlight was stitched into the fabric," another whispered, her words curling through the air like smoke.

A sharper voice, hushed but laced with excitement, murmured, "And she’s holding Lord Osric’s hand... so the rumors are true?"

"I’d wager we’ll hear of their engagement news before the night ends," came a reply, filled with knowing satisfaction.

What nonsense are they spouting?

Their whispers chased after me, a quiet storm of curiosity and speculation, but I kept my gaze forward. The chandelier light danced across the polished floor, the train of my gown trailing like liquid silver, and Osric’s thumb brushed gently against my knuckles.

Every step was deliberate. Every breath was measured. And though my face bore only a serene smile, inside my heart beat like the ceremonial drums awaiting the start of something that could change everything.

And then...

"Lavinia."

Papa’s deep voice rolled across the hall like distant thunder. He stepped forward from the dais, every inch the emperor, his dark cloak swaying behind him.

Osric bowed respectfully, but before I could even react, Papa’s large hand firmly

separated mine from Osric’s like peeling apart a scandal in progress.

The glare he shot Osric could have melted steel. Or at least wilted a bouquet.

Without missing a beat, Papa linked his arm with mine, the iron grip of a man who had just declared, "Over my dead body," without actually saying it.

"That," he said with a proud, booming voice that echoed across the banquet, "was a spectacular entrance, my child."

I smirked, tilting my chin up just enough to make my nose look even higher than my royal status."Hah... I knew that! I am a walking diva, Papa. Anything I do is spectacular."

Papa blinked at me. Once. Twice. And then—he chuckled, that rare, warm rumble. "Shall we go?"

I felt heat creep to my cheeks, but I still managed to nod with dignity. "Y-yes."

We walked together, the emperor and his crown princess, side by side, toward the throne. My gown’s golden cloak trailed behind me like a living flame, my head high, my every step saying this is my stage.

And then—out of the corner of my eye—I saw her.

Eleania.

Standing among the crowd, like a thorn tucked into a bouquet of smiling courtiers. At her side was Count Talvan’s daughter, Lady Sirella, whose smile was just a little too sweet to be genuine.

Oh, she came too.

Our eyes met.

Her smile didn’t change, but her gaze... oh, that was not the look of a friend. That was the angry glare of a woman who had lost either a crown, a man, or both.

For the briefest second, my brow twitched.

But then—I lifted my chin a fraction higher, turned my head away, and moved forward without giving her the satisfaction of a second glance.

Tonight was mine.

And no amount of glaring could dim my crown’s shine.

Papa led me to the dais, the entire hall’s attention locked on us. He took his place beside the throne, raised a hand, and began in that deep, commanding voice that could hush a battlefield.

"Thank you... all of you... for coming to celebrate my only, precious daughter’s Coming-of-Age Ceremony. From Today, she is going to enter the damn—"

I jabbed his side with my elbow.

He coughed, correcting himself without missing a beat. "—enter the... society."

And yet his gaze swept over the hall like a predator scanning prey.

"As the next empress of this empire, you will serve her... honor her... and show absolute loyalty to her."

And then... his voice dropped, slow and sharp enough to slice through silk.

"And... should any idiot... foolish enough to think himself worthy... dare to pester her with a marriage proposal..."

The entire hall held its breath.

"I will personally... remove his head... from his shoulders... and hang it—."

Some poor noble in the back made a choking sound.

I immediately grabbed Papa’s arm with a nervous laugh, leaning in to whisper—loud enough for everyone to hear—"It’s... over, Papa. That’s enough threats for one birthday party."

Papa blinked down at me, completely unfazed. "But I didn’t even start yet."

My smile froze. "I... still think that’s enough, Papa."

He hummed as if considering it, then gave a slow nod. "Very well... for now."

Then, without warning, he turned back to the crowd, his voice booming like the roll of distant thunder.

"Then... I present to you... the Crown Princess of the Elorian Empire—my daughter, my pride, my blood—Lavinia Devereux!"

The hall moved as one, heads bowing low in perfect unison, voices rising in a chorus that echoed off the marble pillars:

"We greet Her Majesty, the Crown Princess!"

It was majestic. Spine-tingling. A moment that could have been immortalized in history paintings.

Then everyone straightened, and Papa gave a satisfied little nod. With a subtle flick of his hand, Theon hurried forward—dragging a very long, very fat scroll that seemed to weigh more than a small child.

Papa took it, turned to me with a grand smile, and said, "This... is my present to you, my child. Congratulations on entering adulthood!"

I accepted it gracefully, smiling up at him. "Thank you, Papa."

Then I unfurled the scroll... and it kept going. And going. And going. By the time it hit the floor, it had rolled halfway down the steps.

Papa, looking absurdly pleased with himself, began to read as though he were announcing royal war terms.

"This... is the list of gifts I have brought you. Gold mine. Diamond mine. Ruby vault. Sapphire reserves..."

His voice dropped lower, eyes glinting like a man about to casually conquer a small country."...I have brought you every treasure in this kingdom. And if there was one I couldn’t find—rest assured, I took it from someone else."

Gasps rippled through the hall—some shocked, some impressed... and some just nodding like, Ah yes, typical Emperor Cassius behavior.

I wasn’t even surprised. Neither was anyone else. Honestly, I think the last time I’d been shocked by Papa’s "birthday presents" was when I was one and he gifted me a small land.

I dangled the absurdly long scroll from one hand and smiled sweetly. "Thank you so much, Papa. Thank you for... single-handedly filling my treasure vault until it’s crying for mercy."

He beamed like I’d just handed him an award for Best Emperor in the History of Over-the-Top Gifting.

And then—

"Ahem... it’s my turn now."

The voice was unmistakable.

Grandpa Thelien appeared, gliding in with all the smug grace only an elf could possess, flanked by my two brothers—Lysandre and Soren—who were clearly here as backup witnesses to his impending "victory" over Papa in the gift-giving Olympics.

"You’ve given your gift," Grandpa said, tossing Papa a side glance sharp enough to shave steel, "and now it’s time for me to show my amazing gift."

Papa scoffed, leaning back like a man watching a doomed challenger step into the arena.

Grandpa ignored him completely, swooping in to wrap me in a hug that smelled faintly of enchanted pine and dangerous magic.

"Congratulations on becoming an adult, my precious girl!!!"

I giggled into his shoulder. "Oh, thank you so much, Grandpa."

Then—oh so casually—he glanced at Papa again, his smile twisting into the kind of grin you usually see before someone drops a royal-level insult.

"Your father," he said, in a voice dripping with exaggerated pity, "always gives you boring gifts. But I..." He huffed proudly, and I swear his long elven ears twitched higher with the sheer force of his ego. "...I have brought you a gift more amazing than anything he could dream of."

Papa scoffed again, louder this time. "As if."

Grandpa’s response? He reached into his robe and, with the flair of a stage magician about to pull a dragon out of his sleeve, produced a small scroll.

I blinked at it. "A magic scroll?"

Leaning closer, I whispered, "Grandpa... are we teleporting?"

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling like a man who lived for moments just like this. "Of course not, my precious. Just... wait and watch. You’ll be surprised after this."

Papa muttered under his breath, "Probably surprised when the whole banquet catches fire..."

And then—TEAR!

The scroll split in his hands, and—FLASH!

The entire banquet hall exploded in shimmering light, drowning the room in a deep, swirling blue. Stars winked into existence above us, and streaks of white light danced across the air like shooting comets.

Gasps echoed through the room. Dresses and jewels reflected the glow, turning the nobles into walking constellations. For a moment, it was as if we were standing in the middle of the universe itself.

My eyes went wide, my breath catching. "It’s... beautiful..." I whispered, unable to look away.

And that was the best amazing gift ever I have received, but of course I can’t say it loudly. Papa will hear.