VALENCIA'S SCARLET DRESS WAS EMBROIDERED with floral patterns made of genuine gold thread. The costly handmade gown hugged her upper body and the skirt flowed to the floor. A set of gold bands adorned her fingers. They were a birthday gift to herself from two months ago.

The midsummer ball was a Lehuan tradition that predated Andreas and Cyra Stone's rule. Valencia waited in her room as long as she could before Ronan forced her to leave her room. She hoped to stay there forever.

"You can't hide," Ronan said.

She murmured a yes and followed him downstairs. The fresh scent of flowers welcomed her. It had taken two days to complete the room: flowers decorated the tables in the banquet hall and the handrails of the winding staircase that ended in front of the main entrance. Colorful lights casted a pretty glow in the room.

Guests began arriving fast. The invitation list ranged from the stylish princess of Tovarre to a female doctor who pioneered a new heart surgery. Valencia welcomed them with a warm smile, not too large that it looked obviously fake, and not with too much teeth because that was not classy.

Valencia had to live up to Cyra Stone, who's hostess capabilities was the only good thing going for her. She was always the best dressed. She was always charming and alluring. Her midsummer balls always raised money for the church and no one really understood why. Cyra was a murderess. Her devotation to God didn't add up or sit well with many people.

The current empress didn't care why Cyra did what she did. Valencia only craved to live up to the expectations everyone had about the ball. If Cyra did so great, couldn't she do better?

In the banquet hall, Valencia picked up a card placed on everyone's plate. The soft cream colored paper felt like it could melt in her hands. The cursive font stated the charity's name: Feeding Lehua. Both her and Ronan chose it; they were the two who remembered what hunger felt like. The gnawing emptiness in her stomach was a memory she tried her hardest to move past from.

Ronan, in his navy suit, made his way toward me, bright smile plastered on his face. "These people can see you being antisocial and they will judge you for it."

"I've never even met most of these people," Valencia sighed.

"And now is your opportunity to do so," Ronan said, "Lucky for you, Ophelia knows most of them."

Ronan nodded towards the detective. Ophelia chatted with Princess Maria and her younger brother, Prince Christian Palacio of Tovarre. Ophelia's excited giggles looked like they hadn't seen each other in months. Christian's hand on Ophelia's back and his smug smile suggested he was flirting. Her laughing at whatever Christian said made Valencia think Ophelia liked him too.

"I don't want to intrude," Valencia said.

Ronan shook his head. "Please. You're the empress. You're the only one who can."

A surge of confidence made Valencia walk forward, her glittery heels clicking as she went. Upbeat music played in the background. Maria's berry-red lips curved into a smile as Valencia approached the trio.

"Empress Valencia Lenard," Maria said, "It's so exciting to finally meet you! I'm Maria Palacio of Tovarre and this is my brother, Christian."

Christian greeted her with a grin. "Lovely party."

"Nice to meet the both you too," Valencia said, "Now, can I steal Ophelia from you?"

Ophelia looked up from her drink and looked at the prince and princess. Maria nodded her head yes.

"Sure, empress," Ophelia said.

Her ankle-length satin gown showed off her strappy silver heels as she walked through the banquet hall with Valencia. The empress glanced around, taking in her first ball, loving and hating to see all these people around her. They were drinking champange and wine and cocktails and whiskey. They were eating bits of meats and cheese that waiters brought around. They were talking and laughing and having a better time than Valencia.

"Introduce me to these people," Valencia said.

Ophelia nodded, beginning a tour of the banquet hall. They met royalty and doctors and military people. Valencia spoke about her fight against famine and beginning peace talks with satellite states. She talked about her upcoming tour of the countryside where she would visit her home state, the lake villages, and a poor city named Heartless.

People gleamed at her liberal nature. Andreas and Cyra were never like this, they said. Valencia smiled when they complimented her, prideful. All she ever wanted was a better Lehua where no one starved like she did.

Liberal, her devil suddenly laughed, You're just like Cyra. Remember the unholy things you did that make your skeleton black?

Valencia bit her tongue. It stung.

I don't have to tell you his name, the devil continued, his name is etched on your heart.

It stung to remember Homer. How she spoke to his soul a few days ago, letting all the memories she suppressed overtake her. She hated knowing she let herself drown. If Ronan hadn't heard her single scream, Valencia knew she would be dead.

Valencia needed a moment to herself; she left the busy room in exchange for a deserted hallway on the third floor. It was dark up there. She liked the isolation. The quiet calmed her.

Looking in a mirror that had been gifted to the first emperor of Lehua, Valencia moved her dress to the side, exposing where her heart is. Even in the dark she could make out what her devil wrote while stitching her up.

"Homer," she whispered.

The letters were small. Black. Plastered on her heart forever. A reminder of what she did. The reason why her skeleton is black and her soul is tarnished. A friend lost. An empire brought to her feet.

Valencia decided that only thing she should feel towards Homer is gratefulness. Without him, she wouldn't be the empress of Lehua. Without him, she couldn't fight starvation. He was an unfortunate casualty on her war to greatness.

She fixed her dress, put on a smile, went to the banquet hall, and continued as if her devil had never said anything in the first place.

Her mind still wandered to the name on her heart.

Valencia hated how he could control her.