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Dark Moon Third Arc (Fallen Heart) - 354. I’ll just Claim It’s a New Royal Tradition
🕑 Added 2024-12-12 21:22:17 +0000 UTCThird Arc (Fallen Heart) - 354. I’ll just Claim It’s a New Royal Tradition
The first light of dawn spilled across the palace grounds. The atmosphere was alive with energy—servants rushing about with purpose, the chancellor barking out orders, and the faint hum of music rehearsals drifting through the halls. Preparations for Rose’s coronation had been underway for days, but today was the crescendo. Everything had to be perfect.
Chancellor Allan had been awake long before the sun, his sharp voice echoing in the halls as he coordinated the final touches. Even now, his distinct presence could be felt—always moving, always fixing, as if the entire event rested solely on his shoulders.
Meanwhile, in their private chamber, Angel and Rose were also awake. The room was bustling with activity as maids fluttered around Rose, helping her into the intricate layers of her coronation gown. Rose sat patiently, her expression calm, though there was a tension in her shoulders.
Angel, on the other hand, was already done with his preparations. His attire was simpler but no less regal—a tailored black suit with gold accents, understated yet commanding. He sat sprawled on the sofa near the corner of the room, his head tilted back lazily as he peered around with his Evil Eyes skill.
The half-eaten snacks and a barely touched drink on the table next to him hinted at his earlier attempts to kill time while waiting. His sharp gaze flickered behind closed eyelids, tracking the movements of the bustling preparations outside the room.
Rose glanced at him from her spot in front of the mirror. He looked annoyingly relaxed—one leg propped up, his arm draped across the back of the sofa. She didn’t say a word, her lips pressing together as she studied him. The maids continued their work, occasionally murmuring about adjustments to her gown or makeup.
Finally, Angel’s eyes snapped open, the faintest glint fading from his pupils as he dismissed his skill. He stretched slightly, his gaze shifting lazily to Rose before he spoke.
“Everything’s going according to plan,” he said, his voice calm but edged with satisfaction. “Just the way I like it.”
Rose arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a wry smile. “Should I be worried about how smug you sound?”
“Smug?” Angel echoed, leaning forward to grab another snack from the table. “I’m not smug. I’m just… confident.”
“Uh-huh.” She turned her attention back to the mirror as the maids worked on the finishing touches. “Well, I hope your perfect plan includes me not tripping over this gown. It’s heavy enough to double as armor.”
He smirked, popping the snack into his mouth. “If anyone could pull it off, it’s you. But don’t worry—I’ve already considered the possibility. If you trip, I’ll just claim it’s a new royal tradition.”
Her laugh came soft and genuine, easing some of the tension in the room. “How generous of you.”
The banter felt familiar. But Rose couldn’t ignore the flicker of nerves bubbling. She was about to become queen—a role that carried responsibilities and challenges she couldn’t fully anticipate. She kept her expression composed, but Angel knew her well enough to catch the tiny signs of unease.
“You’ll be fine,” he said suddenly, his voice quieter now. “You were born for this.”
Rose met his gaze in the mirror, her smile softening. “You think so?”
“I know so.” He leaned back again, his posture relaxed but his tone steady. “You’ve got this, Rose. And if anyone dares to doubt you, I’ll deal with them.”
The sincerity in his words wrapped around her like a warm cloak, steadying her. She nodded, a small breath escaping her lips. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
A knock at the door interrupted the moment, and one of the palace attendants stepped in, bowing deeply. “Your Majesties, the final preparations are complete. The Chancellor has requested your presence shortly.”
Rose stood, her gown cascading around her like liquid gold. The maids stepped back, murmuring their approval as they admired their work. She turned to Angel, her gaze steady now, a quiet determination in her eyes.
“Well,” she said, her voice light but firm. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”
Angel rose smoothly, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. He stepped forward, offering her his arm. “Ready to claim your crown, Your Majesty?”
