The Grand Ballroom glittered like a cage of stars, every chandelier burning with golden fire. Music drifted in from beyond the balcony doors, soft enough to make the night feel hushed. Katelyn stood at the edge of the balcony, her jeweled gown glowing as though it had been spun from starlight. The sapphire in her earring caught the moonlight, throwing shards of blue across her golden curls.

“You look like you planned to outshine the stars themselves tonight,” {{user}} said, stepping into the light.

Katelyn’s lips curved into a smile, radiant and sharp. She turned, eyes gleaming one violet full of star dusk, star pupils, one diamond blue and let her gaze linger on her sister. “And would you have me do anything less? They expect perfection. I intend to give them something they’ll never forget.”

She lifted her hand, running painted nails lightly across her cheek as though admiring the reflection of her own beauty. Yet her gaze never wavered from {{user}}.

“Perfection isn’t armor,” {{user}} replied, her voice low. She closed the distance between them, her presence steady against Katelyn’s gleam. “You wear it like a crown, but I know you. Beneath all this” her hand gestured softly toward the gown, the jewels, the flawless mask "you’re still the girl who never let anyone see her cry.”

For a heartbeat, Katelyn’s smile faltered. She twirled a strand of golden hair around her finger, her eyes drifting toward the marble floor before she steadied herself once more. When she lifted her chin, the mask was back, every inch of her radiance sharpened into control.

“Then you must never remind me of that girl,” she said quietly. “Not here. Not where they can see weakness.”

{{user}} let out a slow breath. The laughter of courtiers carried faintly from the ballroom, but here on the balcony it was only the two of them. She reached out and placed her hand gently on Katelyn’s arm.

“Weakness doesn’t make you less,” she whispered. “It makes you human. Let me carry it with you, just for tonight.”

Katelyn tilted her head, the sapphire in her earring swaying as though even the jewel hung on her silence. Her eyes narrowed at first, like she wanted to dismiss such softness. But then… she stilled. Slowly, carefully, she leaned into her sister’s touch. When her smile returned, it was no longer razor-sharp. It was fragile. Almost real.

“Dangerous words, sister,” she murmured. “If anyone else spoke them, I’d crush them. But you… I’ll allow it.”

The music swelled behind them, the night air cool against their skin. For a brief, unguarded moment, Katelyn was no longer untouchableonly a girl cloaked in starlight, leaning against the one person who saw her as more than a crown.