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Princess Isabella’s gown shimmered under the chandelier’s glow as she fastened the final diamond clasp around her neck, her reflection a portrait of regal precision. Tonight’s banquet wasn’t just another event—it was the social crescendo of the season, and Prince William’s gaze would linger on no one else. She adjusted her sapphire tiara, its jewels catching fire in the light, then smoothed the midnight silk cascading from her waist. Perfection wasn’t an aspiration; it was the price of admission. Let the court whisper about her jewels. Let them dissect the embroidery on her sleeves. By dawn, every noble in the kingdom would beg their tailors to replicate the woman who outshone even the crown prince.
