Chapter 57 – The Return of Gold and Fire
The royal ballroom shimmered under a ceiling carved from moonlight.
No one said it aloud, but the air itself felt different tonight.
The kind of quiet anticipation that only occurred when the world's most untouchable figures converged—where alliances weren't forged, but measured, and every breath was dressed in politics and legacy.
The Seven Legacy Courts, forged centuries ago by the bloodlines that shaped continents, only ever opened their doors twice a decade. Monarchs, tech emperors, secret sovereigns, and heirs too powerful to be named—this was their dominion. And tonight, the youngest Kang heir entered it not as a guest, but as someone who belonged.
Jaeheon stepped out of the car, its shine absorbing light like a black hole. Cameras weren't allowed beyond the perimeter, but if they had been—this moment would've been etched in history.
His tuxedo wasn't just tailored, it was engineered—hand-stitched with platinum-threaded midnight silk, molded to every line of his body like shadow. A diamond tiepin the size of a quail's egg sat at his collar, discreet and deadly in its clarity. The shoes? A custom pairing designed by the last remaining artisan from the first Legacy House of Milan—crafted over six months, each stitch lined with real onyx.
He moved like a painting, but his eyes scanned like a soldier.
He wasn't here to impress.
He was here to find her.
Inside, the ballroom had changed since the last time. No longer just gold and diamonds—it now wore age, authority, and a deeper hush. Magnolias floated from crystal chandeliers, while the grand orchestra played something rich and slow, as if time itself had begun to waltz.
Nobility bowed.
Heads turned.
But he didn't look at a single one of them.
And then she entered.
Like the sun had chosen a different form for the night.
Anastasia Celeste Volkov did not walk.
She appeared—as if the universe had parted just enough for her to step through. Gowned in something spun from silver frost and ancient moonlight, her presence cut through the air like a sword wrapped in silk.
Her golden hair fell in loose waves, untouched by any trend, and her glacial blue eyes didn't even scan the room—because she didn't need to. She knew everyone already watched her.
There was no announcement. No name called.
Because the ones who mattered already knew. And the ones who didn't? Didn't deserve to.
Jaeheon didn't breathe.
This was the third time.
But it still felt like the first.
She hadn't changed, and yet, she was nothing like the memory.
He thought he was prepared.
He wasn't.
Not for the way his heart broke and stitched itself together at the same time.
Not for the fact that he couldn't even approach her—not here, not like this.
Instead, he stood at the edge of it all. Watching. Waiting.
Until later.
Until the moment she would leave the crowd.
Until she would walk, alone, toward the gardens.
And he would follow.