"They really are a fascinating pair, aren’t they?" Iryna spoke softly, turning her attention back to the group after watching Cherion and Zarius disappear onto the balcony. She tilted her head toward Marielle. "Apparently, the two of them have decided we’re less interesting than the view outside."

Marielle let out a dry, theatrical sigh, swirling the liquid in her glass as a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips. "Oh, absolutely, Your Highness. Because staring at a bunch of dark, empty bushes and the capital skyline is completely, undeniably more thrilling than standing in a room packed with a bunch of stuffy aristocrats breathing down each other’s necks."

Iryna blinked in surprise before bursting into a soft, melodic laugh, thoroughly charmed by the blunt delivery.

Gillian, who had been quietly observing the crowded ballroom while leaning against the edge of a beautifully decorated refreshment table, let out a rich, rumbling chuckle and chimed into his sister’s conversation.

"Careful, Lady Marielle," Gillian said, swirling his own drink with a grin. "If the Crown Prince hears you calling his prized court ’stuffy,’ we might all get escorted out by the imperial guard. Though, I must admit, I don’t think I have ever seen him look quite so thoroughly unbothered yet violently insulted at the same time after that juice incident. Coming to this banquet was worth it purely for the entertainment value."

"Gillian, please, try to behave like a proper visiting prince for at least five minutes," Iryna teased. She turned her full attention back to Marielle, stepping just a fraction closer, her royal silk gown whispering softly against the marble. "But he isn’t entirely wrong. The North possesses a very distinct, wild sort of charm. It makes the rest of this capital feel incredibly stale and artificial by comparison."

Marielle chuckled softly, but her attention was quickly stolen by the large silver tray sitting on the table nearby. Being an absolute, self-proclaimed alcohol enthusiast, her eyes had been lingering on the deep red vintage that Philia had been praising just moments before. The liquid was vibrant, catching the magical light of the chandeliers like a swirling pool of liquid rubies.

"Setting the capital drama aside for a moment," Marielle spoke up, her voice dropping into an eager, excited pitch as she gestured toward the tray. "As someone who appreciates fine craftsmanship, I am incredibly curious about this. Is this truly the famous specialty liquor brought forth directly from Solaria?"

Iryna’s smile widened, a touch of genuine royal pride bleeding into her elegant features. "Ah, so you appreciate good vintage, Lady Marielle? Yes, it is. It’s a specialized blend harvested exclusively from our home province’s central vineyards. The soil there is enriched by unique minerals, giving it that distinct, deep crimson color and a remarkably rich, sweet finish."

"It’s practically a national treasure," Gillian added, stepping over to pick up a fresh glass from the servant’s tray, offering it directly to Marielle with a polite nod. "Go ahead. Try it. It would be a diplomatic tragedy to leave this banquet without experiencing it."

"Thank you, Your Highness!" Marielle said, her eyes practically lighting up as she accepted the glass. She held it up to the light, admiring the rich consistency, before taking a slow, appreciative sniff of the aroma.

Across the room, the rest of their companions were thoroughly occupied with their own distractions. Reiner was currently standing a short distance away, completely cornered by Ezek. The two of them were deeply embroiled in a dense, highly animated discussion about... well, something. Further down the hall, Flio and Elios were busy navigating a crowd of minor capital barons, Elios smoothly handling the political small talk with his charming smile.

Unbothered by the surrounding chatter, Iryna raised her own glass, her eyes locking onto Marielle’s blushing face with a soft, deliberately lingering gaze.

"You know," Iryna murmured, her voice dropping into a smooth, almost velvety tone as she tilted her glass toward Marielle. "If you find that you truly enjoy this delicacy tonight, you should consider making a journey to Solaric in the spring. The vineyards are absolutely breathtaking when the flowers bloom, and the vintage tastes even better when it is poured directly from the aging barrels."

Marielle froze for a microsecond, the crystal glass hovering just before her lips. She let out a nervous giggle, trying to match the playful energy.

"My, Princess Iryna... is that a formal royal invitation?" Marielle asked, her voice tilting upward playfully as she peeked over the rim of her glass. "Because I might just hold you to that. The North is beautiful, but I am always looking for an excuse to travel for excellent wine."

"Consider it an absolute promise," Iryna replied smoothly, her smile soft and radiant. "I would gladly act as your personal guide."

With a shared, lingering look, both of them brought their glasses to their lips. Marielle took a eager, delighted gulp, her eyes widening as the complex, sweet, and incredibly rich flavors exploded across her palate. It was phenomenal, smooth, heavy, and completely unique.

Iryna took a graceful, deep drink of her own home vintage, tilting her head back slightly as she swallowed the familiar, comforting taste of her homeland. She lowered the glass, letting out a soft, satisfied breath. "See? I told you it was..."

Suddenly, Iryna’s voice violently cut off.

Marielle blinked, setting her glass down on the table with a bright smile, ready to pour out a string of enthusiastic praises. "Your Highness, this is absolutely incredible! The depth of the flavor is..."

But the words died in Marielle’s throat.

Iryna’s expression had completely frozen. The royal pride and playful warmth vanished from her face in an instant, replaced by a sudden, jarring look of pure confusion. The glass in her hand suddenly slipped from her fingers, plunging downward and shattering against the floor with a sharp, loud crack, the crimson liquid splatting wildly across the white marble.

"Iryna?" Gillian asked, his smile instantly dropping as he noticed the sudden, heavy silence from his sister.

Iryna didn’t answer. Her breath became violently shallow, coming out in ragged, desperate gasps. Her hands flew up to her chest, her fingers clawing frantically at the fabric of her gorgeous royal gown right over her heart, as if she were suddenly suffocating.

"Your Highness?" Marielle called, stepping forward and lightly tapping Iryna’s trembling back with a nervous chuckle. "Hey, you need to drink slowly! I know you drink this a lot back home, but you shouldn’t swallow it down so fast if you’re laughing!"

"Iryna, stop joking around," Gillian spoke up, his voice cracking slightly with a sudden, instinctual wave of panic as he stepped closer. "What’s wrong?"

Iryna opened her mouth to speak, her eyes wide with a sudden, primal terror as she stared blankly at Marielle.

But no words came out.

Instead, a horrific, violent spasm wracked her entire body. Iryna doubled over, and a massive, thick torrent of dark, crimson blood violently erupted from her mouth, completely splattering across Marielle’s hands, her dress, and the marble floor beneath them.

Before either of them could even scream, Iryna’s legs gave out entirely, and the foreign princess collapsed heavily to her knees amidst the shattered glass, violently coughing and choking as a second wave of dark blood pooled rapidly around her trembling hands.