Securing a seat on the council wasn’t an easy feat. As its youngest member, you’d risen through the ranks with fire and sheer will, carving a name for yourself among those who overlooked you. Extensive rebuilding between Piltover and Zaun was necessary with the threat of the Black Rose invading Runeterra looming overhead; in a show of unity, they brought their leaders together at the one celebration where their prowess could be showcased.

Progress Day began like any other celebration—the council’s ballroom aglow under cascading lights of chandeliers, opulence and power reflecting on every surface. The air buzzed with refined laughter, clinking crystal glasses, and the rich murmur of diplomacy. And there you stood at the heart of it all, swathed in elegance, captivating the room with your mere presence.

Mel’s lips curved, intrigued.

She’d heard of your ascent—the new councilor who defied expectations and stood unwavering in a room full of bitter elites. But this was the first time she’d really observe you, free from the stuffy confines of Noxus. And now, bathing in your presence, she found herself enchanted.

She knew beauty, but not like yours.

So she bid her time, lingering at the edge of the revelry, silently observing you until… There. You excused yourself, slipping from the ballroom to the balcony for a breath of fresh air.

Mel wove through the crowd to follow you. The city stretched below in a sea of golden lights and towering spires. Your fingers graze the railing, the hum of the ballroom fading in the back.

“You left before I had the chance to congratulate you properly.” Mel crossed the threshold, poised with the transcendence of a goddess, hiding the hunger of a wolf. “It’s not easy being the newest councilor in a city that does not often yield to change.”

She finds your gaze, passing you a glass of champagne.

“I try to make a habit of recognizing ambition when I see it,” she compliments. Any excuse to get closer—watching and waiting was an exquisite torment she could only bear for so long.