The Grand Empress Augusta lay nestled beneath layers of silk and embroidered linen when Rosamund, her ever-faithful maid, entered with a quiet knock and bowed curtly.
"Your Majesty," Rosamund began, "word has come from the palace. The Empress Dowager is hosting a royal ball, its purpose is to formally announce Lady Adriana as the future Empress."
Augusta let out a dry, humorless scoff, her silver-streaked hair cascading across the pillow like a crown.
"So Victoria makes her move at last," she murmured, voice laced with disdain. "How predictable. The woman couldn't scheme quietly if her life depended on it."
Rosamund bowed her head. "Shall I deliver a reply, Your Majesty?"
"Yes," Augusta said, eyes narrowing with resolve. "Send word that I request an audience with the Empress Dowager at her earliest convenience."
"As you wish," Rosamund said before slipping from the room.
A second maid, Clara, who had been folding linens at the foot of the bed, paused and looked up.
"What do you intend to do, Your Majesty?"
Augusta leaned back, eyes fixed on the gilded ceiling.
"For now? Nothing," she said coolly. "Let us watch how the game unfolds."
Xander stood before the heavy oak doors of his chambers, hands clenched at his sides. He had returned not as Emperor, but as a man seeking the woman he loved. But the doors remained firmly shut. On the other side stood Beatrix, Lola's loyal maid, her heart pounding with unease.
"My lord," Beatrix said with a respectful bow. "My lady has instructed me to say she does not wish to see you. She...asks that you respect her wishes and leave at once."
Xander's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.
"She also said," Beatrix continued, voice trembling slightly, "that if you refuse, she will leave your chambers and never again appear before you."
For a long moment, the Emperor stood there in silence, as still as a statue. Beatrix dared not breathe.
Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.
Once he had disappeared down the corridor, Beatrix released the breath she'd been holding and entered the room. Emmeline turned toward her, eyebrows arched in question. Beatrix gave a small nod.
"He's gone," Beatrix said softly.
Lola didn't turn around. She remained seated by the window, eyes fixed on the grey sky.
"Did he look...?" she began, but stopped.
"Devastated," Beatrix finished. "Yes, my lady. He looked heartbroken."
Lola sighed, her posture stiff with tension.
"Good," she whispered, then rose to her feet. "There's work to be done."
"My lady?" Emmeline asked.
"I'll need a gown for tomorrow's ball. One that dazzles." She crossed the room and retrieved a small velvet purse from her trunk. It jingled with the sound of gold coins.
She handed the purse to Emmeline.
"Buy white silk. And diamonds for embroidery. I want a gown that blinds. Tomorrow, I arrive in white."
Beatrix gasped. "You mean to…"
"Steal the day from Lady Adriana?" Lola finished with a sharp smile. "That's precisely the plan."
Meanwhile, across the palace, Adriana stood still as the royal seamstress worked around her. The room was filled with muttered measurements and the snipping of scissors until the door opened and Mary stepped inside.
"My lady," she said in a lowered tone, "I've done as you asked."
Adriana turned sharply.
"Everyone out," she commanded.
The seamstress and her attendants curtsied quickly and filed out. Once the door clicked shut, Adriana lowered herself into a cushioned chair with regal poise.
"Speak."
Mary cleared her throat. "The Emperor approached his chambers this morning. Lady Charlotte had instructed her maid not to let him enter. He waited for several minutes... then left. Alone."
Adriana's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. She tapped her fingers against the armrest, the room thick with silence.
"Very good," she murmured, the chill in her voice belying the warmth of her expression.
She said nothing more, but the look in her eyes promised one thing: this ball would be war.