The Arrival at Averleigh

The carriage rolled to a slow stop as the towering iron gates of Averleigh Palace creaked open. A hush fell over the group of young women inside, each of them craning their necks for a better view of the grand estate that would determine their fate. Sunlight glinted off the gilded edges of the palace's limestone walls, highlighting the intricate carvings and towering spires that stretched toward the sky. Servants in crisp livery stood in perfect rows beyond the gates, waiting for their arrival.

Inside the carriage, the air buzzed with nervous excitement.

"It's even more magnificent than I imagined," one girl whispered, her voice trembling with awe.

"I heard the gardens are more beautiful than any in the entire kingdom," another added, straightening her skirts.

Evelyn Lancaster, seated near the window, did not react to the chatter. She merely observed as the estate unfolded before her, taking in the manicured hedges, the marble fountains, and the expansive courtyard where more carriages were already arriving. It was a grand display of wealth and tradition—one that held no real interest for her.

The palace was an undeniable symbol of power, but to Evelyn, it felt suffocating. She had no desire to be here, no wish to participate in this charade of a competition. But her family had left her no choice.

The carriage door opened, and a footman extended a gloved hand to assist them. One by one, the young ladies stepped onto the polished stone, their gowns billowing around them. Evelyn followed suit, lifting her skirts slightly as she descended, her gaze flicking to the other contestants. Some held their heads high, poised and graceful, while others fidgeted, adjusting their gloves or smoothing their hair.

A tall man in royal livery stood before them, his posture stiff with formality. "Ladies, welcome to Averleigh Palace. His Majesty and the royal family are expecting you."

The murmurs around her grew as the realization set in—they would be meeting the king and prince today. Evelyn merely exhaled, bracing herself for the inevitable.

The palace doors swung open, revealing a vast foyer of gleaming marble and towering columns. The air carried the scent of fresh roses, mingling with polished wood and candle wax. The floor was so pristine that Evelyn could see the reflections of the chandeliers above, their crystal teardrops refracting golden light.

A woman stood waiting at the top of the grand staircase, her deep navy gown a stark contrast to the pale marble. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled into a severe bun, and her gaze was sharp, assessing.

Lady Beatrice Langley.

Evelyn recognized her instantly—the royal advisor known for her unwavering loyalty to the crown and her strict adherence to tradition.

Lady Beatrice's voice rang out, clear and authoritative. "Ladies, you have been granted a rare opportunity. His Majesty, King Aldric, seeks a future queen for his son, and only the most exceptional among you will remain. Make no mistake—this is not merely a contest of beauty or charm. A future queen must demonstrate intelligence, grace, and a deep sense of duty."

Some of the contestants visibly straightened, as though they could will themselves to appear more regal. Evelyn remained still, her expression unreadable.

"You will be introduced to the royal family shortly," Lady Beatrice continued. "Afterward, you will be shown to your rooms, where further instructions will be provided. Remember, you are guests in Averleigh Palace, but you are also being judged. Conduct yourselves accordingly."

With that, she turned sharply, leading them through the grand corridors.

As they walked, the whispers started.

"I heard Prince Alexander is even more handsome in person."

"Do you think he already has a favorite?"

"I bet he does. The royal family must have someone in mind."

Evelyn ignored them, instead studying the palace itself. Everything about Averleigh was a statement—each portrait, each gilded frame, each embroidered tapestry spoke of history, tradition, and expectation. It was a place where duty came before desire. A place where one's future could be decided for them.

She had no intention of being part of that.

The group was ushered into a vast reception hall, where gold-trimmed chairs were arranged in perfect symmetry. At the far end of the room, an ornate dais stood beneath the crest of the royal family. The air was thick with anticipation as the contestants took their places.

Then, the heavy doors at the front of the hall swung open.

A hush fell over the room.

The royal family had arrived.

King Aldric entered first, his presence commanding the space instantly. Though past his prime, his posture remained straight, his dark eyes sharp as they swept over the assembled women. Beside him, Queen Eleanor moved with effortless grace, her expression unreadable. She was the picture of poise, her every movement refined and deliberate.

And then, there was Prince Alexander.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably striking, he carried himself with the confidence of someone born into power. His golden-brown hair was neatly styled, his navy jacket fitted to perfection. His features were sharp—strong jawline, piercing blue eyes—but it was the flicker of something else in his gaze that caught Evelyn's attention.

Boredom.

It was subtle, but she saw it. The slight tightness in his jaw, the faint sigh that barely lifted his chest. He did not want to be here any more than she did.

The formal introductions began. Each contestant stepped forward in turn, dipping into carefully practiced curtsies as they stated their names. Some spoke with breathless excitement, others with calculated elegance.

When it was Evelyn's turn, she stepped forward, her expression calm, detached. She sank into a flawless curtsy.

"Lady Evelyn Lancaster."

Prince Alexander's gaze met hers. His expression did not change, but something flickered behind his eyes. "Lady Evelyn."

It was a simple acknowledgment, nothing more. But as she straightened, she did not miss the faintest hint of curiosity in his gaze.

Lady Beatrice stepped forward. "Now that introductions are complete, the contestants will be shown to their rooms. Tomorrow, you will begin the first set of activities. Rest well."

The gathering was over.

As the contestants turned to leave, Evelyn exhaled softly. She had done what was required. And with any luck, she could continue to coast through this competition without drawing much attention.

Or so she thought.

Because as she walked past, she felt a gaze lingering on her.

Not from the prince.

From the king.

His sharp, calculating stare followed her as she moved. Unlike his son, there was no boredom in his expression. Only scrutiny. Interest.

And that, she realized, could be far more dangerous.