A Transmigrated Princess's Guide To A Fluffy Royal Life!-Chapter 53: Unseen And Unwelcome

Aldric’s voice was soft. Barely a murmur.

"I... didn’t know what to say when I saw you step into the room," he admitted.

Altair raised a brow, unreadable.

"I thought maybe I could compliment your entrance," Aldric went on, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Or say you made the ballroom feel whole again."

"But you didn’t," Altair replied evenly.

Aldric nodded once. "Because none of that would’ve been enough."

Silence stretched.

The King’s voice turned low. Rough around the edges.

"When Isolde died... I failed you. I failed her. I should have been there."

Altair’s jaw flexed. His eyes narrowed—but not in anger. In something older. Heavier.

Aldric stepped closer.

"I told myself the treaty couldn’t wait. That the Ruelan diplomats would walk if I left. And maybe that’s true. But I could’ve found a way. I *should* have found a way. And I’m sorry."

The word hung there.

Sharp. Honest. Vulnerable.

"I don’t ask for forgiveness," Aldric added. "But if Evelisse... if she reminded you of anything we once shared, then I’ll be grateful beyond measure."

Altair didn’t speak.

He looked down at the girl who had just finished dancing with him—glitter still dusting her curls, cheeks flushed from joy, now standing surrounded by seven very nosy, very sparkly siblings.

Then back at Aldric.

And finally—

He stepped forward.

And pulled the King into a hug.

It wasn’t grand or dramatic.

Just firm.

Grounded.

A gesture two warriors—two friends—had once shared after battle.

The entire ballroom seemed to exhale.

Evelisse’s hand flew to her mouth.

"I... I think he forgave him," she whispered, eyes wide.

Lucien placed a hand on her shoulder. "Because of you."

Felix nodded solemnly. "This is going into my sketchbook forever."

Altair stepped back from Aldric and murmured, "You still owe me a spar."

Aldric smiled. "Only if you don’t go easy on me."

"Oh, I won’t."

Laughter—real, relaxed—echoed between them.

Evelisse’s heart swelled like a pastry puff in a hot oven.

’I did it,’ she thought. ’I actually did it.’

Then—

"Now, my dance," Felix said, bouncing beside her. "Before brother Jared steals you for some dramatic dip that ends in cake!"

"I only dropped a damsel once!" Jared protested.

"That wasn’t what he meant though," Marcus said.

"Oh."

Lucien stepped back, letting them argue as he watched his sister with warmth in his eyes.

Jared extended a gloved hand. "Your Highness?"

Evelisse giggled and took it. "Only if we dance near the dessert table."

"Ah, bribery," Jared said. "You’re truly royalty."

They twirled, and the room relaxed around them—whispers turning into cheerful murmurs, tension dissolving into delighted chatter.

The ballroom was bright again.

Whole again.

Altair stood beside Aldric, their once-frosty standoff melted under Evelisse’s soft insistence and glitter-fueled chaos.

Aldric leaned just slightly toward Altair and murmured, "You do realize Seraphina saw you smile... right?"

Altair froze.

Aldric smirked. "She’s probably plotting your next royal appointment. Or worse—an etiquette committee welcome dance."

Altair’s eye twitched. "She would."

Evelisse piped up cheerfully from a few feet away, mid-spin with Jared, "Don’t worry! Mommy only recruits you when you don’t expect it! She once made Felix join her embroidery circle and called it ’combat readiness training!’"

Felix, mid-sip of strawberry nectar, choked. "It was terrifying."

Aldric chuckled, low and fond. "She’s still the fiercest thing in a gown."

Altair huffed. "That’s not just a gown. It’s a full tactical uniform laced with sugar pearls and maternal threats."

Lucien, standing nearby, actually laughed—brief and quiet—but there.

Evelisse, now dancing with Callum in a graceful little sway, leaned toward him with an exaggerated whisper, "Papa’s making jokes again. That means he’s really happy. That, or the wine hit early."

Callum smiled faintly and dipped her carefully.

From the corner, Queen Seraphina observed it all with narrowed eyes and a regal smile.

"Altair is smiling and dancing?" she said to Lady Irelia. "Mark the date. History was made."

Lady Irelia blinked. "Shall I send for the royal scribe, My Queen?"

"Send for the bards."

Across the room, Lance was twirling himself in circles beside Leo in an attempt to practice his "rescue-the-princess" dance routine.

"You look like a windmill choking on its own axis," Leo said.

"It’s dramatic flair!"

"It’s dramatic whiplash."

Snugglewuff barked happily from beneath the dessert table, wearing a tiny lace ruffle someone (Felix) had declared was "formal ball attire for puppies."

And in the midst of it all—Evelisse stood, cheeks glowing, chest puffed proudly.

She had done it.

Brought smiles.

Mended wounds.

Made cake-themed memories.

Her eyes flicked toward the dais where her parents now stood close—Aldric with one arm behind his back, Seraphina watching her children with soft amusement.

But then...

Something shifted.

Evelisse’s brows furrowed.

Just past the far window, beyond the veil of moonlight and dancing stars—there. A flicker. A movement.

A ripple of dark fabric against one of the high towers.

She leaned toward the glass, squinting.

She squinted, nearly tripping on Callum’s toe. "Hold on... hold on... why does the tower window blink?"

"Hm?" Callum blinked, glancing where she looked. "I don’t see anything—"

"Nope. Nope. I saw it. Something went *fwoosh*!" She waved her arms dramatically. "Like a shadowy fwoosh. The kind that’s either a fancy bat... or an evil spy!"

"Let’s hope it’s the bat," Jared muttered, already shifting his weight like someone who hadn’t completely turned off his combat instincts.

Fluffy poked its nose from inside Evelisse’s sleeve. "You felt that too?"

"Yup," Evelisse whispered. "Is this where you say ’RUN, PRINCESS’?"

"No," Fluffy said gravely. "This is where I say... stay close."

Evelisse shook her head, forcing a grin. ’No gloom today. No creepy thoughts allowed. This is a healing ball. And I’m the sparkly glue.’

Her smile didn’t falter. But her little hand tightened around Callum’s fingers.

Still, the music continued. Still, the laughter bloomed. And her father now stood beside Altair, watching his children and the ballroom, eyes finally easing from years of steel.

"Do you think we’ve done well?" Aldric asked softly.

Altair considered. "I think... your daughter just pulled off what a dozen royal mediators couldn’t."

"And she did it in glitter shoes."

Altair chuckled. "Impressive choice of weaponry."

"Truly devastating."

The evening unfolded gently. One dance led to another. Evelisse made a great show of awarding ’Best Twirl’ to Lance and ’Most Dramatic Dip’ to Jared (even though he nearly dropped a cupcake instead of her).

She performed a miniature curtsy for Callum, declaring his sketches "museum-worthy" before dashing off with Felix to chase down raspberry mousse.

And then—

Just as the night felt completely whole...

Just as the Queen turned to give her daughter a fond, approving nod...

Just as Snugglewuff barked gently from Lucien’s arms..

The chandeliers gave a faint shimmer.

Like a breath.

And far above them all...

In the highest spire of the castle, where no one danced..

Where no light but the moon reached—

A shadow moved.

Unseen.

Unwelcome.

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