At last, Camilla left for the palace, feeling relieved after hours of reassuring her parents that she’d behave.
She had promised to be responsible and avoid trouble, and eventually, they agreed to let her go.
With a mix of excitement and nervousness, she bid farewell to her family and set off toward the palace’s grand entrance.
Reflecting on the experience, she discovered it to be utterly absurd and downright comical.
Now, anticipating the culmination of the selection process, and the diverse array of personalities that would be in attendance, she found the prospect of this journey to be a serene and uncommonly delightful adventure, one that few could appreciate of course.
As the glided to a halt before the imposing palace gates, Camilla beheld a procession of elegantly attired ladies emerging from sleek vehicles, their exquisite ensembles and poise commanding attention.
“Now, this promises to be captivating,” she mused, her lips curling into an enigmatic smile, as a fleeting glint of golden light danced across her vision, unbeknownst to her.
As she emerged from the vehicle, Camilla was poised to seek out her companion when a familiar voice pierced the air, shrill and insistent, beckoning her from behind.
“Milla, over here!” Lila’s vibrant gesture summoned her friend, waving her over with an energetic flourish.
Camilla’s face illuminated with a warm smile, thrilled to encounter the one person she had been eager to reconnect with.
She reciprocated Lila’s greeting, waving back from her stationary point, her eyes locked on her friend’s animated countenance.
The elegant procession of ladies glided into the grand hall, guided by the discreet directives of the maids positioned at the entrance.
“Take your ease, ladies,” the queen’s melodious voice resonated from the rear, as the murmurs of conversation gradually subsided.
Seizing the attention of her audience, Her Majesty gracefully proceeded to the forefront of the diminutive podium, her loyal sentinels shadowing her every step, ever vigilant and poised to thwart any potential threat to the queen’s person.
“Welcome to the first-ever Royal Bridal Selection, that would be happening in the history of this kingdom.
I would like you all to enjoy yourselves and not wander to any area that is off-limits.
And please, be on your best behavior; don’t disgrace the Lunaria Kingdom because of one man,” she cautioned.
“Emily,” she called out.
“At your service, your majesty,” the queen’s personal maid answered.
“Have them line up properly, so I can take a closer look at each of them.
“Why would she need a register for a selection?” Lila whispered.
“I think it is probably to check the age and qualifications of the girls here,” Camilla responded, in an equally hushed voice.
“Quit yapping, you two,” Lady Adara chastised them, in a low voice, while Imara could only shoot them a disdainful look.
Camilla, who couldn’t care less about what was going on, raised a brow but decided to let the remark go for today.
Emily, her countenance stern and unyielding, advanced to issue supplementary directives, her voice firm and authoritative.
“Upon hearing your name, proceed forth, declare your age, and articulate a proficiency at which you excel,” she instructed, her gaze sweeping the assembly to ensure the edict was comprehended by all.
“Noncompliance with this ordinance will result in immediate expulsion from the palace grounds,” she admonished, her eyes lingering on the ladies to emphasize the gravity of the instruction.
“You may now proceed,” the queen stated firmly.
“Lady Imara of the Darkwood family,” Emily started.
Imara, who had been waiting for a chance to show herself, stepped forward.
“I am nineteen years old, and I have mastered the skill of knitting,” she proclaimed proudly, before stepping back.
“Lady Galenira of the Nexaria family.” “I’m twenty, and I am good with the piano.” “Lady Zara of the Moonhunter family.” “Eighteen, and I have a beautiful voice.”
“Lady Camilla of the Emberstone family.” Gracefully, she stepped out.
“Turned twenty this year, and I have a degree in political science,” she casually stated, in a bored voice, and the crowd gasped.
“Isn’t that supposed to be only a course meant for men?” they whispered among themselves.
Applause echoed from the doorway, punctuating the silence.
“Bravo, my lady,” Prince Thane exclaimed, his voice dripping with sincerity.
“You’ve surpassed my expectations once more.
Few noblewomen dare to delve into such an esoteric field of study, and even fewer persevere to mastery.
Your expertise will serve you eminently well as a monarch.”
“They were supposed to meet with you tomorrow for an official introduction,” the Queen spoke up, bringing the attention back to her.
“Ahh, here I am, hello everyone,” he greeted, not minding the fuming queen.
“Your Majesty, I fear you’re misconstruing the protocol.
Today’s proceedings were intended to culminate in the final culling of candidates, with only a select few remaining.
However, I propose that a more extensive pool enhances the likelihood of discovering the ideal match,” Prince Thane suggested, his countenance marked by an impertinent grin that Queen Astrid longed to erase.
“By retaining a larger assembly, we increase the odds of unearthing the perfect candidate.
Whittling down the numbers prematurely would diminish the excitement and potential for unexpected connections,” he continued, his tone laced with persuasive charm.
“Oh, yes, Crown Prince Thane, the guests are always right,” she seconded, while slyly reminding him that he was a guest in the kingdom.
“With Prince Thane’s impassioned advocacy, I have decreed that all candidates shall be granted an equal opportunity to vie for the esteemed position,” Queen Astrid proclaimed to the anticipatory assembly.
“No one shall be dismissed today, and each lady shall have the chance to demonstrate her merits.”
Turning to Prince Thane, she inquired with measured composure, “Does this revised outcome meet with your approval, Your Highness?” Her gaze held a hint of subtle deference, tempered by an undercurrent of quiet authority.
“Very well, Queen Astrid, you are really good with the kingdom’s management,” he said, and turned to the exit, but not without discreetly winking at his girl, who was standing in the middle of the small crowd.
“If I may have your attention,” he began, “breakfast will be served by eight a.m.
on the dot.
I hope you all dress decently and elegantly.”
“Emily,” the queen summoned her loyal attendant once more, “ensure that each selected lady is escorted to her appointed chambers, and arrange for luncheon and dinner to be served therein.
Impress upon them the necessity of remaining sequestered until dawn breaks tomorrow.”
“Yes, your majesty,” she responded.
“That will be all for now, ladies.
See you tomorrow,” she said, and bade them goodbye.