Birthday celebration

On the day of the celebration.

"Make sure nothing goes wrong on this occasion, I have had enough of you falling out," Leyla said, her piercing gaze fixed on Miller, who bowed and swiftly left the room.

"Mother, we both know Zyran wouldn't fall for petty tricks. Why bother trying anyway?" Katia said.

"Would you rather we sit on our hands while the rest of them fall into the good graces of the king? I would have been happier if I had been blessed with a son. At least I would be sure where I stand," Leyla said with a scowl.

Katia smirked, her defiance evident.

"Oh dear mother, I guess you have too many sins to have had a daughter, but I don't care about sharing your attention. My focus should be on Duke Ezekiel tonight. I can't afford to lose my chances with him."

Leyla sighed heavily.

"What am I to do with you, Katia? You should be aiming for one of the kings or princes who are going to be present tonight. Setting your sights on a useless duke gets you nowhere."

"Don't ruin it for me, Mother," Katia implored, her eyes flashing with determination.

"You could be a queen, not some lowly wife of a duke," Leyla insisted, her voice laced with unyielding conviction.

Katia straightened her posture, a rebellious glint in her eyes, and began to adjust her corset.

"Come on, Mother, we should welcome the guests, the celebration is about to start."

On the opulent main floor where the event was taking place, Amira positioned herself on the balcony, her eyes watching as the carriage came to a stop in front of the palace building.

Guests adorned in their finest attire streamed into the venue; Amira's hand cradled her chin as she leaned against the ornate railing, her gaze fixed upon the bustling crowd below.

Meanwhile, Nora, who stood beside her, found herself unable to resist stealing glances downward, utterly enthralled by the decorations and nobles and high-ranking people walking in.

"There are many people tonight?" Amira mutter.

Amira stood watching as Katia engaged in conversation with the guests, her smiles lacking genuine warmth as she tried to maintain an air of thoughtfulness. From a corner, Amira heard Novalie approaching and turned to face her.

"Why aren't you joining the party, Amira?" Novalie inquired.

"I don't enjoy crowded places," Amira replied.

"It's a shame. You'll have to make an appearance later; most of the guests are eager to meet Zyran's wife," Novalie stated, casting a glance at the guests who had arrived and were now being ushered in.

"His Majesty his a reputed figure amongst other kingdom, he has many friends" Amira said.

Novalie shook her head and spoke in a hushed tone, "Not really friends, it's all about pleasing father,"

As they made their way down the grand staircase, Novalie added, "Come on, Amira, we should go join the ladies before they start talking and filling themselves up with gossip,"

The sounds of music filled the room, and the crowd buzzed with excitement. Amira glided alongside Novalie as they approached a group of elegantly dressed women, their refined appearance hinting at their high status and sophistication."

Amira stood in silence, nodding occasionally as the world around her buzzed with life. Suddenly, a familiar voice called out her name from behind. She spun around, and a radiant smile lit up her face at the sight of the person approaching.

"Freya!" she exclaimed, closing the distance between them and enveloping her in a warm embrace.

"Oh, I've missed you too," Freya responded, breaking away from the hug.

Freya, as always, commanded attention. Her deep red gown provided a striking contrast against her skin, and her freckles created a mesmerizing pattern on her face. Her curly hair was elegantly gathered up, with wisps framing her face, accentuating her undeniable beauty.

Her smile was like a beacon of warmth, always shining brightly much like the sun.

"I hadn't attended a lavish celebration in what felt like an eternity, and the mundane soirees were beginning to wear me out," she expressed, her gaze wandering around before returning to settle on Amira.

"I owe you an apology for the last incident; it was entirely my carelessness that put you in danger, Amira. I deeply regret it and I've been wanting to apologize since then, but we had to leave urgently due to some pressing matters," Freya explained.

"Don't worry about it no harm was done. It was my fault for spooking the horse," Amira reassured her.

The two ladies chatted freely.

In the dimly lit corner of the grand hall, Zyran stood flanked by his trusted companions, Aaron and Ali.

"Your Highness," Aaron's voice rang out. "we have dispatched our men to secure the hideout. No one without an invitation will be able to leave once inside."

Zyran, his piercing gaze never leaving the figure of Amira in the distance, remained silent, his mind preoccupied.

"Lord Uriah has arrived," Ali's words cut through the tension in the air. At once, Zyran tore his eyes away from Amira and fixed his gaze on the imposing figure of Lord Uriah, who was making his way into the building with his wife and daughter.

Uriah made his way to the king paying his respect.

"Happy birthday, your majesty. May you have a long life and prosperity," Uriah said with a bow.

His daughter, Danielle, stood with grace, her demeanor exuding elegance as she offered her own words of felicitation with respectful courtesy.

"Long life to you, your Majesty," Danielle said.

The presence of the Dawson family filled the air, bringing hush whispers from the crowd as they were a reputable family amongst the nobles

Zyran signaled to his men to withdraw, taking a step forward to engage with the royal party.

The king acknowledged Uriah's greeting with a nod, allowing a warm smile to brighten his countenance as he turned his attention to Danielle.

"The Dawson daughter has indeed flourished. I can still recall the image of a young Danielle visiting the palace," the king remarked.

Danielle let out a small smile.

"You should enjoy the night," Queen Miranda said to her, and they nodded.

Katia was the first to make her way to Danielle, engaging her in a lively chatter. Amira, standing with Freya, observed Danielle from a side, intrigued by her presence.

"Who's she?" Amira asked Freya, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, she's Danielle Dawson, a model to all noble ladies. The king has held her in high regard since she was young; she's filial to her elder," Freya explained.

"I see," Amira murmured, taking in the information.

Danielle's eyes scanned the crowd before finally landing on her, or maybe not.

Amira then noticed Zyran making his way toward her, his confident gait drawing attention. Freya excused herself to find Ezekiel.

"Little raccoon," Zyran called out with affection in his voice.

Amira's face lit up with a radiant smile as Zyran came to a halt in front of her, his presence bringing a sense of comfort and warmth.

"If you're not at ease, you should take a break for the evening; there's no need to force yourself to fit in. I don't want you to feel pressured to conform or please anyone," he advised gently.

"I'm fine, Zyran. I'm doing well. Freya is here with me, and so are you," she reassured him.

Zyran reached for her hand and tenderly raised it to his lips.

"Your hands are cold," he observed, as he blew warm breath on them and rubbed them together.

"Don't you have other matters to attend to?" she inquired.

"You needn't concern yourself with that," he responded.