Although Murphy hadn’t turned his head, with senses far sharper than an ordinary person’s, he was well aware of the Princess’s arrival.

His expression remained unchanged, as if her arrival were nothing more than an inconsequential breeze drifting through the hall.

The ceremony drew to a close with a final, lengthy prayer of blessing from Archbishop Fernandez.

At her mother’s signal, Eleanor turned to face the guests and gave a slight curtsy, and the hall filled with enthusiastic applause.

According to the planned proceedings, the guests would next present their valuable gifts in turn as a formal congratulation.

And naturally, the first to present a gift was the special envoy representing the Royal Family.

All eyes focused on the travel-worn Princess Elizabeth.

Just then, at a quiet reminder from her lady-in-waiting, Princess Elizabeth took a deep breath. She straightened her spine, which had sagged with exhaustion, folded her hands before her, and forced a dignified smile onto her face as she prepared to fulfill her duties as the special envoy.

She rose from her seat in the front row and walked slowly down the central aisle, a path of deep red carpet, toward the dais at the front.

She tried to adjust her pace, to make her gait—stiff from the long journey—appear poised and unhurried. But her slightly tense shoulders still betrayed her nervousness and exhaustion.

When she finally stopped before the dais, the entire White Rose Hall fell silent, the only sound the occasional soft crackle of candlelight.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. Gently lifting the sides of her skirt, she bent her knees and offered a deeply respectful curtsy to Margaret and Eleanor, who stood side by side on the dais.

"I, your niece, Elizabeth Stuart Purple Eagle," her voice rang out, crisp and clear, "am commanded by His Majesty King William IV to pay my respects to Duke Temeris, my esteemed aunt, Her Highness Margaret. On behalf of the Royal Family, I humbly offer my most sincere blessings to my cousin, Eleanor Leonice Temeris, on her fifth birthday."

Margaret looked down from the dais at her much shorter niece. The gentle, proper smile on her face didn’t falter in the slightest; if anything, it grew a fraction softer.

However, she did not immediately bid Elizabeth to rise, instead letting her remain in her curtsy.

After half a minute, Margaret finally spoke, her voice gentle and melodic. "Rise, Elizabeth. It was a long journey; you must be exhausted. How is my brother, the King? Is he well?"

Elizabeth straightened as she was bidden, raising her face to meet Margaret’s gaze and striving to keep her own eyes calm and sincere. "Thank you for your concern, Aunt. My father the King is well, merely occupied with the affairs of state. He deeply regrets that he could not attend in person. Before my departure, he gave me specific instructions to convey his deepest regards and blessings to you, and to express his gratitude for your many years of contribution to the Kingdom and your support for our family."

She paused, her gaze shifting to Eleanor, who stood quietly beside Margaret, watching her with curiosity. Elizabeth managed an even warmer smile.

"And this must be my cousin, Eleanor?" Elizabeth’s voice softened further. "You are just as the rumors say—as lovely as an elf bathed in moonlight."

As she spoke, she took an object wrapped in deep blue velvet from a gilded wooden box presented by the lady-in-waiting behind her.

She carefully untied the bindings, revealing the object within. It was an exceptionally ancient and heavy book. Its cover was an intricate inlay of some Dark Gold metal and deep brown leather, its edges secured with a silver clasp. The spine was branded with complex, indecipherable ancient runes, and it faintly exuded an aura of age and mystery.

"This is a birthday gift that my father the King specially selected for his niece from the Royal Family’s ancient library," Elizabeth said, lifting the book with both hands and presenting it reverently. "*Ancient Stargazer’s Journal*. I heard my cousin is fond of the stars and the night sky. Perhaps the ancient astrological legends recorded within might bring her some joy."

Eleanor’s eyes flashed with keen interest as she looked at the ancient book, but she didn’t immediately reach for it. Instead, she glanced up at her mother.

The smile on Margaret’s lips remained unchanged. She reached out to gently press her daughter’s shoulder, a silent instruction to be patient, before signaling to Annabelle, her chief lady-in-waiting.

Annabelle immediately stepped forward, respectfully took the heavy tome from Elizabeth’s hands, and retreated to the side.

"My brother the King has been most thoughtful," Margaret’s voice remained gentle, betraying no hint of pleasure or displeasure. "The gift is very considerate. Eleanor, will you not thank your cousin Elizabeth and the Royal Family for their kind gesture?"

Eleanor then obediently took half a step forward. Mimicking court etiquette, she gave Elizabeth a small curtsy—a little clumsy, perhaps, but perfectly executed. "Thank you, Cousin Elizabeth," she said, her voice clear. "And thank you to His Majesty the King for the gift. Eleanor likes it very much."

Elizabeth quickly gave a slight bow in return. "I am glad you like it, Cousin."

Her gaze flickered over Margaret’s serene face again, as if trying to read something from that flawless mask, but she came away with nothing.

As for Lord Melfield, he had remained calmly seated in the front row the entire time. His gaze occasionally swept over the scene, but he watched it as if it were a common court proceeding, one that had nothing to do with him.

"Please rest for a while, Elizabeth. There are other guests waiting to offer their congratulations and gifts to the little birthday girl." With that, Margaret ended their short conversation.

Elizabeth let out a nearly inaudible breath and, at a signal from her lady-in-waiting, prepared to turn and return to her seat.