STRINGS BETWEEN US

CHAPTER OF FIFTY-FOUR: MASKS, MOONLIGHT, AND THE PRESIDENT WHO STILL LOOKED BACK

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR: MASKS, MOONLIGHT, AND THE PRESIDENT WHO STILL LOOKED BACK

RIYEE'S POV

If Sovereign Suites used to feel like a cage, tonight it felt like something else entirely.

There were voices in the hallway again. Laughter echoing through stairwells. A chessboard left unfinished in the lounge. A blueprint half-sketched on a coffee table no one remembered placing.

And for the first time in weeks, I didn't feel like I was just surviving behind those walls.

They were here now.

The Court was home.
And unfortunately, so were the girls who stormed into my room at exactly 5:40 p.m. with zero regard for personal space.

"We brought you your gown!" Keryn announced, glowing like she'd just pulled off an illegal heist.

I blinked. "My what?"

Alexie smirked, hoisting the long garment bag onto my bed like it was a sacred artifact. "Your dad picked it." Then, almost playfully, she added, "But your mom made the final call."

I just stared.

"They're talking again," Keryn said meaningfully, like I hadn't just gone into full system reboot. "Like... really talking."

I didn't know what hit harder-the fact that they chose this gown together, or the fact that my parents were apparently trying again. Before I could react without short-circuiting, the two girls screamed in sync:

"We can't wait to see the Ice President's face when he sees you!"

I rolled my eyes. "You can't. We're wearing masks, remember?"

"Doesn't mean we won't watch," Alexie winked, already backing out the door with Keryn.

The moment the door clicked shut, I unzipped the bag.

And froze.

Moonlit silver, layered in chiffon petals that shifted from silver to the softest blue under light. Corset-boned and off-shoulder-elegant without being fragile. The fabric pooled like mist on the floor, trailing behind like something half-dreamed.

My mask was tucked in a silk pouch-crystal-lined, gold filigree, soft white feathers curling to one side. It glowed faintly, just enough to catch beneath chandeliers.

And near the waist seam, stitched so faintly I almost missed it, was the Ardent crest.

I smiled.

Of course.

I really couldn't run from them, could I?

6:50 p.m.
My phone buzzed just as I pinned the last strand of hair into place.

KD: My girlfriend always wants a dramatic entrance.
Me: Of course.
KD: I'm waiting.

7:45 p.m.
Solencia Courtyard

I arrived late. Obviously.

It wasn't a royal coronation-but Supreme Allievo never did anything halfway. Solencia Courtyard had transformed into something surreal. Lanterns floated above trimmed hedges. Chandeliers dripped from tree branches, their light soft and golden. A slow jazz waltz threaded through the warm July air.

And me?

I walked down the central stone path like I belonged.

People turned. Eyes followed. Some whispered. Some stared.