In the heart of the empire, where no human footsteps reached without a permit sealed with the Empress's pure gold, lay the Sacred Sun Garden, behind the eastern wing of the great Solaris Palace. The air there was heavier than the morning breeze, saturated with the scent of authority, enchanted by the ancient aura that had surrounded the place since the era of the seven grandmothers.
The garden gate, a massive arch of white gold, bore intertwined solar engravings, and at its center glittered the "Sol Ori" stones, which did not merely reflect light, but returned it in glowing tones heard only by those with spiritual hearing.
Empress Deviana stepped into the garden with graceful strides, wrapped in a light imperial lace shawl, embroidered with red threads that blazed under the sunlight like living flames. Behind her walked Countess Sara von Delaroz, in a dark green dress cinched at the waist, adorned with rare flowers that bloomed only atop the frozen peaks of Mount Siberia—a testament to her indisputable wealth.
"I wonder, when will we finally celebrate Princess Diana's wedding?" Sara asked in her artificially cheerful voice, laughing softly as she walked alongside the Empress between two rows of crystalline trees.
Deviana replied without turning: "Soon, if the sun chooses to shine upon her heart... and perhaps, upon the throne of another nation."
Sara paused, hiding her surprise behind a small smile: "How intriguing! I haven't yet heard of a new political alliance… Is the prince from the East or the West?"
Deviana raised an eyebrow slightly and continued walking: "Let us leave my daughter aside. Tell me instead, how did you convince your son to propose to a girl some still think is merely a handmaiden in the court?"
Sara laughed, lifting a cup of emerald blossom tea: "Arwa is no handmaiden, but a shining jewel. She took my breath away at first sight. Intelligent, sharp as a blade, and childish enough to match my son's madness."
Deviana observed her in silence, then whispered as if casting a stone into a still lake: "Your son is twenty-six… and you think he can be tamed by a girl barely out of the shell of innocence?"
Sara's hand trembled slightly, but she swiftly rearranged her expression: "Childhood often conceals a wit sharper than the maturity of men, Your Majesty."
Deviana suddenly turned and halted before the Eternal Crystal Fountain. The water flowed with harmonious melodies, like the sounds of sacred flutes. The sunlight reflected off the water, painting dancing colors on both women's faces.
The Empress said: "Do you think a stick of cinnamon... can go well with a sour sauce?"
Sara gasped lightly, laughing bitterly behind a turquoise peacock-feathered fan: "Countess!" Then added with a neutral tone: "Tastes are sometimes born from contrast, not similarity."
A young servant approached, carrying a tray with a light purple drink. Deviana raised it and took a small sip, then said: "You have a charming way of defending an unannounced marriage… Don't you think secrecy doesn't suit noble families?"
Sara replied with tense calm: "Why not? Don't we hide our finest jewels? We only display what we choose."
The garden burned with subtle beauty, and within it, other fires kindled. Both women smiled, spoke gently, yet their words were silk-covered arrows. Their gazes were like a royal beast dance… a lurking she-wolf, and a lioness waiting for the right moment to strike.
The Empress's peacock approached with elegant steps, standing right before her. It let out a strange sound resembling a chant. Deviana, looking at the bird, said: "It only sings when I am near… Perhaps it senses who is worthy of the throne, and who is trying to sneak their way to it."
Sara smiled: "The peacock is a vain creature, but it sometimes misjudges, especially when its reflection appears on an unclear surface."
Deviana stepped closer: "Arwa... a girl with a vague past, no royal lineage nor blue blood. Being intelligent isn't enough, for this empire is not run by wit alone but by heritage and status."
The Countess responded firmly: "And what about love? Or do hearts have no place in palaces?"
Deviana replied coldly: "Hearts are bought and sold like lands… But power, only the sun grants it."
A heavy silence fell over the place. Not the ordinary kind of silence, but the kind that precedes a storm—or perhaps, betrayal.
Then the Empress said in a light tone, full of warning: "I do not oppose the engagement… but I am testing it."
Sara looked her straight in the eyes, one of hers half-closed like one hiding a blade behind a fan: "Then let us watch together… to see who breaks first."
Just then, a soft laugh was heard behind the trees. Princess Diana had arrived, wearing a dress made of sun-fabric, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders like broken rays. Beside her stood Arwa, in a grey dress suited to moon towers, her gaze cautious, but she did not step back.
Diana said cheerfully: "Mother, Countess, may we join this lovely conversation?"
Deviana looked at Arwa and said: "Of course… The sky is never complete without the moon, is it not?"
Arwa looked back at her steadily and replied calmly: "And the moon is never whole unless it reflects the sun's light truthfully."
Deviana raised an eyebrow and smiled without a reply. As for Sara, she placed a hand over her chest as if hiding a heart dancing with pride.
Thus, the official visit ended, but the true battle began there, in the Sacred Sun Garden. It was no longer about who suited the princess or the throne… but who had the strength to grow roots among flowers burning with light—quietly burning.