The Gathering of Grace: A Duchy Awaits"

Thou art very fair, my sister," said Hilda softly, her tone having a faintly sisterly pleasure in it, but an undertone of something else as well.

"Oh, uh. well met, dear sister," she replied, her voice quivering, a shyness settling into her heart as she observed the latent tension hung in the air between them. Hilda's smile on her face was short of her eyes, and she herself appeared as if she was bearing some unvisible load upon her shoulders.

"Thou art most gracious," she spoke, her voice polite but her discomfort visible in the manner that her eyes flitted downward to the floor, unwilling to remain upon her stepsister's gaze for long.

"Hilda is my stepfather's oldest daughter," she said to herself, a gentle, tight breath passing her lips as she looked at the tall, upright figure of her stepsister, standing alongside her. "And Edric, her younger brother, by her side. But it is Margaret, Cedric's youngest, who stands with Edric instead."

"Cedric, who previously had responsibility for the ovens and produced the country's best bread, now serves by my mother's side after advancing to Duke on the grounds of his union with my mother, the Duchess," she believed, casting a fleeting glance over her stepfather, whose humble beginnings seemed eons distant from the magnificence of the moment.

While sitting there gathering her thoughts, a sudden tug at her sleeve stopped her daydreaming. Her mother, Seraphina, interjected with a voice that was commanding and had a hint of nervous desperation.

"Come on, girl, get in place," Seraphina instructed, her hands moving rapidly and well-trained as she settled her daughter into place, patting her hair into place with the fastidious fervor of one well-trained to such tradition. "You must be the first to greet the Emperor when he comes. The court expects nothing less from us."

Seraphina's hands flew quickly, securing a loose curl of hair here, smoothing the velvet of her gown there, so that all was perfect. The weight of expectation lay so heavily in the air that it seemed the moment the Emperor would arrive would decide the fate of their family.

"There, stand with dignity," Seraphina directed, her tone light but firm, an elegance that had been learned in all her actions. She put her daughter at the side of the great entrance, scanning her with a keen eye as she made certain that every detail was perfect. "The Emperor's eyes will be upon thee, my dear. Thou must look like an example of grace and composure, for all of us."

The girl stood upright, her hands clasped in front of her, her body trembling ever so slightly beneath the pressure of her mother's insistence and the foreboding shadow of what was to be. The Emperor was near; his arrival was imminent, and the air was thick with anticipation.

Seraphina stepped back, her head inclining in approval, but no warmth creasing her face, only the cold of understanding that her daughter, for the time being, was living up to the high expectations placed before her.

"Then, my child, thou art ready," Seraphina whispered, her voice a soft command under the aura of nobility that shrouded their home like a cloak.

And so the family waited, in that stifling silence. The tension of the moment clung to the air like a suffocating fog. They caught the distant sound of approaching feet, the frantic whispers of the servants, but nothing could prepare them for the Emperor's entrance, a moment which would change the direction of all their lives.