Click!

Paris wasn't done yet. She saw the need to capture as many pictures as she could. The royal dining room was a masterpiece, a breathtaking display of luxury with its high ceilings, golden chandeliers, and long, polished table overflowing with an array of gourmet dishes. Even though Paris had her own share of experience when it came to luxury living and big dining tables, there was something uniquely majestic about the palace. It was like a different world from the world she knew

She could already imagine the attention that she was going to get once she shared these pictures on Facebook and Instagram...pictures of her with the king, queen, and future king of Breton...but of course she had to get the Queen's permission to do so first, and her fathers.

Raising her phone a bit higher, she adjusted the angle to include more of the table before her. She pouted slightly, finding just the right expression to match the occasion.

Click!

It was best to get as many shots as possible before the royal family made their entrance. Paris couldn't care less about the maids and attendants quietly bustling around the table. Her focus was on the perfect selfie.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Denise shifting beside her.

"Don't you think that's enough for one day, Paris?" her stepmother said, trying to sound pleasant but already toeing the line.

Paris didn't even glance at her.

"The king's not here yet," she muttered, lowering her phone just long enough to shoot Denise a look. "And even if he was, why would he care? You think a few photos are a threat to national security?"

"I didn't say that," Denise said gently. "I just think it would be good if we all... composed ourselves. Show a little grace when the royal family comes in."

Paris scoffed and turned fully toward her.

"And you're suddenly an expert on royal etiquette?"

Denise held her tongue, but Paris wasn't finished.

"Spare me the advice, Denise. Maybe if you got that rusty uterus of yours to work and had children of your own, you'd have someone who actually wanted to hear it."

A long silence followed, even the maids passing by seemed to pause in their steps.

Denise's lips parted, just barely, like she wanted to speak but instead, she folded her hands in her lap, quietly swallowing whatever she'd meant to say.

Paris didn't care. She never did. Not where Denise was concerned.

She turned back to her phone, ignoring the looks the court ladies were now exchanging.

From the start, Denise had never stood a chance. It was their relationship . Ever since Oliver Vurton, Paris' father, had announced his intention to marry Denise shortly after Paris' mother's death nine years ago, there was a wall between them that Denise could not break down. Despite Denise's countless attempts to reach out, to care for Paris, she had never accepted her, or shown her any form of kindness. To Paris, Denise was just another pathetic and laughable replacement for her mother.

Paris took every opportunity to remind Denise of her shortcomings, particularly her inability to conceive a child. To Paris, and the other members of the Vutron family, it was the ultimate proof of Denise's uselessness to them.

"Paris!" The cold voice of her father, cut through the air, pulling her attention back to him. He lowered the newspaper from his face, his stern gaze locking onto hers. "In a few seconds, we are to be in the presence of the King. I will not have you embarrass this family or disrespect your mother, Watch it."

Oliver Vurton.

It wasn't hard to see where Paris had inherited her sharp tongue and aggressive demeanor. The prime minister of Breton was a formidable man, one of the most feared in the kingdom. He embodied power in every language. The Vurtons had long been a pillar of Breton's foundation, their influence stretching back generations. They were one of the few families who could challenge the royal family's supremacy, and Oliver was determined to secure his legacy by marrying Paris to the prince, solidifying the Vurtons' place at the top of Breton's social hierarchy.

For Oliver, the royal throne was the ultimate prize, and he would stop at nothing to achieve it. This dinner was just another step in his grand plan, a crucial piece of the puzzle that would ensure his family's dominance.

Paris rolled her eyes, but Denise quickly looked away, knowing better than to push the matter further. As much as Paris loved to provoke, she wasn't about to jeopardize this moment for her father. The occasion was too important, too vital to their family's future. She reluctantly handed her phone to the court lady behind her, who hurriedly stepped forward to take it just as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the room.

Another lady in palace uniform entered, her hands folded neatly in front of her thighs, her head bowed in deference. The sharp clicks of her five-inch heels against the marble floor drew everyone's attention as she approached.

"His royal Majesty-the King, her Grace, and his highness, will be joining you now," she announced in a respectful tone.

Oliver was the first to rise, followed by Denise and Paris. Paris felt a flutter of excitement in her chest. She straightened her dress, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

This was it. She had waited weeks for this moment, to see him again.
Even though their engagement wasn't until three days, the prince wasn't someone she could just bump into whenever she wanted. He always had a schedule and in as much as she would have liked to, Paris wasn't princess yet, she didn't live at the palace and even if she did, Aiden always found a way to avoid her. But tonight, she was going to finally see him again, and that was all that mattered.

Paris straightened a little as the dining room doors opened. Her eyes were drawn first to the tall figure who stepped in ahead of the others, his presence commanding the room. He wore a dark tailored suit that sat perfectly on his frame and a kind smile on his face that could easily fool anyone into thinking he was not aware of his surroundings.

King Albert.

The king of Breton, the most powerful man in the kingdom.

Beneath his smile lay an aura of authority that demanded respect. He was a man who had fought tirelessly for his kingdom, a ruler beloved by many, . King Albert was a symbol of Breton's strength and stability, and had worked with his court to build a country that was secure and prosperous.

The Queen walked beside him. She was beautiful, nothing compared to the way she looked in the magazines and even though Paris had seen her many times already, she couldn't help but admire her each time she did. Her shoulders were always relaxed and her smile always reached her eyes and it was what Paris loved about her.

Finally Prince Aiden, their son walked in, taking his time with both hands tucked into the pockets of his perfectly fitted black trousers with his houndstooth plaid shirt was neatly tucked into it. His sleeves were rolled up just above his wrists, his watch glittering with the bright lights in the room,.

Aiden was a sight to behold. His tall, athletic frame and piercing gaze made him stand out even among royalty. His presence was magnetic, and just like his father, he seemed to command authority and a lot of attention wherever he went. He was a splitting image of Albert even though he smiled less. He walked like him too.  Black was his favorite color, and he wore it well. Tonight, his hair was straightened and styled into a center-part mullet, a bit different from his usual curls or bun.

"Your majesty" Everyone chorused some together, some one after the other as they bowed their heads in unison as the royal family approached the table.

Oliver kept his head lowered until he felt the warm, reassuring hand of King Albert on his arm, gently pulling him up. If only Oliver could muster a smile in return,

"Thank you for honoring my invitation," the king said to him before he raised his gaze to the rest of them. "All of you."

Denise managed a small smile on her face without looking up, so did Paris. Oliver nodded in acknowledgment just as Albert let him go and made his way to the head of the table. The Queen took her place at his right, and Aiden settled into the chair at his left.

"We prepared a gift" the Queen added, her voice smooth and gracious. "Please, do not stand on ceremony," she said to them as she noticed how they were still standing with their heads lowered. "join us."

Paris could hardly contain her excitement.
The moment everyone else began to settle in their seats, she moved quickly out of hers, hurrying to the seat beside Aiden without a second thought.  She practically brushing against him as she sat down.

The king glanced up, clearly amused.
His gaze flicked from Paris to Aiden, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"It seems Paris has missed your company, Aiden," he said lightly, his tone teasing.

The Queen's smile widened

"You should visit the palace more often, Paris. I'm sure the prince would love to welcome you."

Aiden didn't lift his head. His eyes stayed on the silverware in front of him, focused on nothing in particular. He could feel her presence next to him and how comfortable she had gotten but it only deepened his annoyance. He let out a slow, quiet breath through his nose and rolled his eyes before he raised his head to his mother and forced a smile on his face.

"And thank you for the flowers," Vanessa went on. "They are beautiful as always."

"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness," Paris replied, turning her gaze to Aiden with a hopeful smile. Her gaze softened a little when it landed on him.

"Did you like your gift, Your Highness?"

All their eyes shifted to him.

Aiden lifted his gaze, meeting hers for just a moment before turning to the rest of them that looked at him like they were also waiting for his response.

"It was alright," he said flatly, turning back to his plate. "Thank you."

Paris felt the warmth in her cheeks as she slowly looked away from him. It wasn't the response she expected but it was good enough. She could feel the small smile that tugged on her lips. She looked down, her fingers brushing the edge of her napkin.

Albert cleared his throat just as the maids stepped forward, and began to serve the food.

"It gladdens my heart to see how well our families are getting along," he started "to see how well our families have worked together to protect this kingdom over the years. And not long from now, our houses would become one through the Union of our children."

Paris turned to Aiden who didn't even spare her a gaze. The smile on her face grew at the sound of Albert's words.

"A union that I believe with great faith would be a big step to fulfilling my vision for a new Breton."

He turned to Oliver now, nodding slightly.

"You and your family have been loyal to the throne for generations, Oliver. I am confident that when my son becomes king, with your daughter as his queen, the fate of Breton will be in great hands, strong and united."

Oliver's expression softened slightly at the king's words even though he wasn't good with smiling so brightly like Albert did. He gave a short respectful nod. He understood the king's words and was touched by them.

"You honor us with your words, Your Highness," Paris found her voice, picking up the cue just as she had learned from her father. She turned to the queen, her eyes shining. "My family has always served the crown faithfully and will continue to do so for generations to come. I look forward to helping the prince fulfill your dreams for Breton. Together, we will ensure that the legacy of the royal family lives on, strong and wise, for generations to come."

Aiden didn't look at her. He picked an apple from in front of him just as the faintest scoff escaped his lips, too soft to draw attention from the table, but enough to earn him a glance from Vanessa, and Paris. He couldn't stand it, the words that came out of her mouth.

"Excellent" the king laughed, clapping his hands in amusement just as Paris slowly turned back to him, finding the smile on her face again. Her cheeks warmed up at the King's words.

"You see," he turned to Vanessa. "this is why I am so eager for their union." He turned back to Oliver. "She will make a fine Queen."

Oliver offered a small nod, eyes glinting with quiet satisfaction. Paris had said exactly what she needed to. Just like they'd rehearsed, just like he had taught her to.

"Perhaps we should have them wed immediately," the king suggested with a light-hearted tone. Paris' face brightened the moment she heard them, she snapped her gaze to her father immediately, hoping he said something, hoping he encouraged the King's decision,

Aiden's grip on his fork and knife tightened slightly while he froze where he sat, slicing his apple.

"What do you think, Denise?" the queen asked, turning to Denise for the first time all evening. Denise looked up, slightly startled by the sudden attention the entire table had given her

"Your Highness?"

"You've raised Paris all these years," the Queen continued. "You've been by her side, as a mother would. If anyone knows ripe timing when it comes to her, it's you. Do you think she's ready?"

There was a pause.

Denise glanced nervously at Paris, who was glaring at her, silently urging her, warning her to not mess this up. She blinked and looked away, her fingers tightening slightly around the stem of her glass. She knew what was expected of her, but she also knew she couldn't lie.

"Y-Your Highness," Denise began, her voice trembling slightly. She felt the weight of everyone's gaze on her, as they waited. She forced a smile on her face. "To be honest, I don't think there's anything Paris isn't capable of. She's strong, smart, and determined for any responsibility, just as her father and I raised her to be."

Paris relaxed slightly. A small, pleased smile curved at the corner of her mouth. She turned to Vanessa and was about to speak again

But then—

"However," Denise continued, causing Paris to freeze and turn to her immediately, widening her eyes in shock. Just what was she about to do?

"I also think that both the prince and Paris are still so young. They have their whole lives ahead of them, and many experiences to live for before taking on the responsibilities of marriage. I believe they deserve the time to enjoy their youth, to complete their education, and to fully prepare for the roles they will one day assume."

Paris's smile vanished. Her lips pressed into a hard line as she stared at Denise, livid. That wasn't the plan. That wasn't what she was supposed to say.

Across the table, Aiden drew in a slow, quiet breath. It was the first time all evening someone had said something that didn't feel like a performance. He glanced once at Denise—grateful.

Oliver's expression darkened, a deep frown creasing his forehead as he stared at Denise, barely able to contain his frustration.

"I understand your concern..." Vanessa's voice broke the tension. "But just like every other Queen, I was just as young as Paris when the king and I got married. Being queen is the highest honour a woman can ever assume, it's a role to be grown into, a big privilege greater than any of us. What more could Paris want for herself rather than becoming queen?"

Denise opened her mouth, unsure how to respond, but Oliver didn't give her the chance.

"Forgive my wife, Your Highness," Oliver interjected, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "What she means is—"

"I don't think she's entirely wrong," Aiden interrupted, his voice calm but firm.

Silence fell again. Heads turned. Even Paris's.

He sat back a little and turned to his mother.

"Times have changed. The world is different now from you and father's time. I believe Mrs. Vurton is only suggesting that Paris should have time to enjoy her youth, to fully prepare herself for the pressures of being queen. There's no rush for an heir, especially with you and father still so young and strong."

There was a long pause. Aiden met the king's gaze. He didn't flinch.
Albert took a moment to consider Aiden's words.

"Hmmm," he murmured, stroking his chin. "The prince makes a valid point." He turned to Oliver.

"Perhaps we should focus on the engagement for now. The rest will come, in due time."

The queen smiled warmly, turning to Paris, who was struggling to hide her disappointment.

"Don't be disheartened, Paris," she said gently as Paris looked away from Denis. "As a mother myself, I understand that your mother only wants what's best for you, and we shall respect her wishes." She turned to Vanessa.

"Why don't you and the prince play us a song after dinner? You both used to love playing the piano together when you were younger. It's what brought you two together in the first place."

Paris's mood brightened slightly at Vanessa's suggestion. She remembered it, the joy she felt each time she played the piano with Aiden when they were younger. But things were different now.

"There's that song you both loved to play back then..." she furrowed her brows as she tried to think. "what was it?"

"Canon," both the king and Oliver chorused, sharing a knowing smile.

"Oh yes," the queen laughed softly. "It feels like just yesterday when you both played together at the King's birthday years ago. I'm sure the King would love to hear you play again after dinner." She turned back to Paris, "Paris, I'm sure you still enjoy playing the piano?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Paris replied, her smile returning. "I could never forget even if I lost my memory. It's even better when I get to play with the prince."

Vanessa's eyes sparkled with delight as she turned to Aiden, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"My piano skills are quite rusty," Aiden said finally raising his gaze to meet hers with a stern look on his face. "I haven't practiced in years," he turned to Paris as his frown got even deeper.

"Would you like to take a walk with me in the garden after dinner?" he asked her just as she furrowed her brows, reading him for a moment, "we should give the adults some time to have their boring conversations by themselves." He turned to his father. "I've had enough politics talk to last a lifetime."

Albert laughed softly just as Vanessa shifted uncomfortably in her seat, a smile forcing itself on her face,

"S-Sure," Paris stammered, her heart fluttering at the thought of Aiden's invitation. Her face had found its colour again. "I'd love that, Your Highness."

"Good," the king said, just as he caught yet another proud smirk on Oliver's face. "I'm happy to see that everything is going well. Let's eat before the food gets cold."

He smiled warmly before turning his attention to his plate, the rest of the table following suit.

Hope. Paris, could feel a surge of hope in her heart. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe she and Aiden could finally connect, away from the prying eyes and expectations.

As the dinner began, she couldn't help but glance at him from time to time, wondering what the evening might hold.

She couldn't wait to be alone with him, she couldn't wait to find out.