The accidental princess

SPIKED HER DRINK

At this point Cassandra could successfully say that she has something she hated about being a royal and it's their abilities to host several banguets in a month.

By sunset on this very day, the grand ballroom was transformed into a shimmering world of crystal chandeliers, polished marble, and walls draped with velvet banners in Cordelia’s royal colors.

A full orchestra tuned their instruments on the raised platform, the notes echoing like promises of magic.

For Cassandra Chase, the sight was breathtaking even more beautiful than that of the Gala.

She stood just outside the massive gilded doors, her palms clammy in silk gloves. Her gown tonight was a flowing sapphire creation, its neckline modest but elegant, its skirt trailing like a river of stars. Jewels sparkled at her ears, and her hair fell in soft curls, adorned with tiny diamonds that caught the light when she moved.

In conclusion she was dressed as the princess that she was

She looked every inch a princess. But inside, her heart raced like a cornered rabbit. Cassandra couldn't help but wonder why she was, for some reason scared of this gathering unlike the Gala.

“Breathe,” Lady Irene muttered beside her, adjusting the fall of her gown.

“For heaven’s sake, at least pretend you’re calm.”

“I’d feel calmer if you didn’t sound like you’re preparing me for an execution,” Cassandra whispered back.

But Irene’s lips twitched whether with annoyance or reluctant amusement, Cassandra couldn’t tell not like she wanted to anyways.

As the massive doors opened a herald’s voice rang out.

“Presenting Her Majesty, Queen Helena of Cordelia, His Royal Highness the crown prince saviour and lady Cassandra Chase.

Dozens of nobles turned at once, their jeweled eyes glittering. Cassandra forced her chin high, matching saviour’s stride as they entered together.

His hand brushed lightly against hers just enough to guide her steps without it looking like support.

She glanced at him, startled, but his face was unreadable as ever.

..............

Inside, the ball glittered with wealth. Nobles bowed to saviour, curtsied to Cassandra, though some did so stiffly, their smiles brittle. Whispers rippled through the crowd like silk sliding over marble.

“She’s prettier than the papers” one of the nobles that wasn't present at the Gala day

“but lit still doesn't change the fact that she is a commoner.”

“let’s see if she survives this time.”

Then chase leaned ever so slightly toward her and said.

“Ignore them.” he whispered

“oh,You can hear them too?”

“I always do,” he said quietly.

“You’ll learn to stop listening as time goes on.”

Before she could reply, the Queen raised her glass, signaling the official beginning of the evening. The orchestra swelled, couples moved onto the dance floor, and the scent of roses mixed with the different presume that everyone was wearing and fine wine filled the air.

Cassandra knew what was coming next.

The first dance.

Tradition demanded the Prince dance with his chosen partner before anyone else took the floor. Which meant, for the first time, Cassandra had to dance in front of Cordelia’s most ruthless critics.

Her stomach lurched.

“Shall we?”. Saviour said as he extended his hands towards her. Her throat tightened But she slid her hand into his anyway.

............

The orchestra struck the opening notes, a sweeping melody that filled the hall.

As Saviour’s hand rested firmly at her waist, his other guiding hers with steady precision. His movements were smooth, practiced and flawless.

Why Cassandra on the other hand, prayed desperately not to step on his shoes spoiling the dance.

“One, two, three,” saviour murmured, low enough for only her to hear.

“One, two, three. Don’t look at your feet.”

“I’m trying,” she whispered back, her voice strained.

“Stop trying. Just follow.”

And to her amazement, she did. His presence was so commanding, so steady, that it was like being swept into a current terrifying at first, but impossible not to move with. Her steps grew lighter, her rhythm steadier.

The murmurs around the hall faded, replaced by the music and the press of saviour’s hand against hers.

“You’re not bad,” he said quietly.

“High praise from His Ice Highness.” Cassandra snorted

For just a moment, his lips curved so quick she almost doubted it. But she felt it in the strength of his hold, in the way his gaze so

ftened for a heartbeat.

When the final note rang and they stilled at the center of the floor, applause erupted.

Cassandra’s chest heaved. She had survived stumbles, no embarrassment just her and saviour moving as if they belonged to the dance floor.

But as they bowed, she caught sight of Lucy near the edge of the floor, her hawk eyes narrowed, her lips pursed in a thin smile that promised trouble way on the way.

The applause faded into polite chatter as the dance floor filled with couples. Cassandra let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, but her relief was short-lived.

“Smile,” saviour murmured, still at her side.

“I . am . smiling,” she muttered through her teeth as she forced a fake smile on her face.

“Try harder, this one doesn't look like a smile.”

She shot him a glare, but before she could retort, a tray of crystal glasses appeared before her.

A servant bowed, offering champagne as Cassandra reached for one a delicate hand, laden with jewels, suddenly intercepted her.

“Allow me, princess Cassandra”. said lady Lucy smoothly, plucking a glass from the tray holding it out to Cassandra, her smile too sweet to be real.

“To welcome you properly into our circle and to apologize about the other day.”

At first Cassandra hesitated because you really don't need a seer to tell her that, that smile was not to be trusted.

But refusing would spark gossip, and Lucy knew it. With dozens of eyes watching, she forced a polite nod and took the glass.

“To Cordelia,” Lucy said, raising her own.

“To Cordelia,” Cassandra echoed as she downed her cup.

The champagne was cool, crisp, and harmless or so it seemed. But as lucy leaned closer, her words were laced with venom as she spoke.

“Enjoy the spotlight while you can, my dear Fairy tales often end before midnight. Just like Cinderella”

Cassandra’s grip tightened around her glass, she expected nothing less from lucy retaliating now wasn't the best idea saviour’s earlier words echoed in her mind. 'Rumors are weapons. They cut deepest when you show the wound'.

So instead, Cassandra smiled sweetly. “Thank you, lady lucy. Coming from you, that means more than you think.”

Lucy’s smile faltered, just slightly.

............

The ball continued with speeches, music, and displays of wealth. Nobles presented checks for the children’s charity the Queen had chosen, each one announced with pride.

The whispers began before she even opened her mouth.

“i think Lucy slipped something inside her drink, She will probably stumble.”

“She’ll embarrass herself.”

“She’s not ready,if she was she would know not to have taken the drink.”

Her fingers gripped the edges of the podium. For a moment, panic threatened to choke her. But then she pictured her mother dusted in flour, laughing as she kneaded dough, yes she was strong never a weakling and never will be.

And suddenly, she knew what to say.

“I am not a princess,” she began, her voice soft at first but growing steadier with each word.

“I wasn’t born in a palace. I didn’t grow up surrounded by titles or jewels. My parents run a bakery. And for that, some may think I don’t belong here.”

A ripple went through the room gasps, murmurs, widened eyes.

“But I believe being royal isn’t about bloodlines or crowns. It’s about service. It’s about remembering that behind every title is a kingdom of people who wake before dawn to work, to build, to feed us all. My parents taught me that every loaf of bread matters, every wheel that turns matters—and every child matters. That is why I stand here, not as someone trying to erase where I came from, but as someone proud of it. And I promise to carry that pride into everything I do for Cordelia.” Cassandra spoke with her chin raised high.

The hall fell silent.

Then applause.

It started softly, then grew louder. Some nobles clapped politely, others more earnestly, but the surprise was clear. Even Queen Helena inclined her head, her expression unreadable but approving.

Seeing this Cassandra glanced sideways, saviour’s eyes were on her intense, unreadable, but with the faintest flicker of something else. Respect.

Maybe even admiration

Of course, not everyone was pleased.

Lucy’s painted lips were thin with fury. She whispered something to the noble beside her, her glare fixed on Cassandra like a blade.

But it wasn't like she cared anyways.

For the first time since stepping into the palace, she felt like more than an outsider pretending to fit in. She felt like she belonged not because she was flawless, but because she was herself.

Later, as the ball wound down, saviour approached her where she stood by the fountain of roses.

“You surprised them,” he said.

“I bet I surprised you too.” she replied smiling.

He studied her for a long moment, then said quietly,

“Keep doing that.” not waiting for her to respond he turned and walked away, as if giving her too much of his approval would break some rule he had sworn to follow.

Still, Cassandra couldn’t stop the warmth blooming in her chest.

The Ice Prince might never say it outright but tonight, she had won more than the nobles’ applause.