Shadows at the Door

The Mily showroom glittered like a gem in the heart of the capital. But behind the shimmer, shadows stirred. News of the brand's meteoric rise had reached the Imperial Court — and not everyone was pleased.

One crisp morning, Aiden burst into Lily's office, his expression tight. "You've made the Court curious."

Lily arched a brow. "Curious or suspicious?"

"Both. One of their information clerks tried to request details on Mily's finances. I intercepted it."

Michelle, who had just entered carrying two cups of tea, frowned. "That was fast. We've barely launched."

"That's what worries me," Aiden replied, placing a file on Lily's desk. "They think we're a front for something. Maybe even rebellion."

Lily leaned back in her chair, her mind spinning. "Then we give them something else to talk about."

That evening, the trio met again in Lily's design studio, the mood more serious than usual. The scent of chalk and lavender drifted in from the workshop floor.

"We need to distract them," Lily said, pacing. "Pull their attention somewhere else."

"Like where?" Michelle asked.

"Every noble loves a good charity. We donate to the royal orphanage. Quietly, but just enough to get noticed."

Michelle nodded. "And we sponsor the cultural festival next month. Visibility without arrogance. Nobles respect tradition."

Aiden hesitated. "It's a good plan, but too clean. They'll still dig."

Lily's eyes darkened. "Then let's give them a clean surface so smooth they won't see what's under it."

The next few days were a whirlwind. Mily staff, led by Michelle, launched the "Faces Behind Mily" campaign — posters, magical displays, and interviews showcasing everyday tailors, enchanted seamstresses, and the team's outreach efforts. The public began seeing Mily not as an enigma but a beacon of opportunity.

Donations were delivered anonymously to the royal orphanage, with just enough hints to trace back to Mily. Rumors of generosity spread faster than those of suspicion.

One afternoon, as Lily reviewed embroidery samples in the reception, a customer entered — elegant, curious, too observant.

"I'd like a custom order," she said, eyes scanning the room. "For a dress ball at the palace."

The receptionist smiled professionally. "We'd be honored. Let me take your measurements."

As the woman removed her gloves, Lily noticed a crest — a subtle badge on her sleeve, one used by palace informants.

Lily's hand paused. "You seem familiar. Been with the Court long?"

The woman met her gaze coolly. "Long enough to spot something out of place."

Lily's smile didn't waver. "Then you'll know we belong exactly where we are."

Later that day, a messenger arrived with a sealed letter

"from who?" The receptionist inquired.

"From the palace to someone named Mira Everen of the house of Virellion," The messenger replied.

The receptionist collected the letter and took it to Lily's office on the third floor.

"Who is it?" Lily asked from inside while reviewing documents

"A letter arrived for you, Miss Mira."

"Bring it in," Lily replied from inside.

The receptionist entered and dropped the letter on Lily's desk before leaving and going back to her post. Lily dropped the documents she was holding and picked up the letter, looking at it sceptically before dropping it and returning to what she was doing, wondering why the Princess would send an invitation to Mily. That night, back in the office, Lily stared at the sealed letter on her desk. The royal crest gleamed under the lamp.

Michelle leaned over her shoulder. "An invitation?"

Lily nodded. "To a fashion exhibition. At the palace."

Aiden looked up from his notes. "This could be our chance… or a trap."

Lily didn't answer immediately. Her eyes lingered on the envelope before she finally whispered:

"Either way, it's time we stepped into the lion's den."