Meera was high up enough that she felt the clouds on her back. Their cold touch sent a shiver down her spine. It was a strange sensation, and she would've loved to fly through these clouds some more if she weren't getting so late. It was late afternoon, and evening was falling fast. She searched for the city in all directions.

Which direction did the prince say the city was in? North or the South?

She looked at the ebbing sun and figured out north and south. When she looked to the north, she found something in the distance. She zoomed in with her eyes and found it. The jungle ended far before the city began. There were swathes of farmland between the jungle and the city.

She drew a deep breath. I need to blast off at full speed, and even then, I might not get there in time.

She blasted off so fast that nearly half of the mirrors from her armor were shot off her body. She consciously held her armor together as she flew at such speeds. Her eyes watered, and her hair ruffled in the air. She willed her armor to cover her head.

Superman never had this problem.

Even flying as fast as she could, it still took her a few hours to arrive at the city. By the time she crossed the city's boundaries, it was dark. Torches lit the city streets and in homes, but it was nothing compared to the palace, which was lit up like a festival.

The people who were still out and about pointed up at her, but she didn't slow down until she reached the palace. This time, she didn't stop at the palace gates. She figured that they must know there was only one person who flew in and out of this place.

Besides, a long line of carriages carried self-important people who must've come to join the gala, and she didn't have the time to wait in line. Before she landed on the other eastern side of the palace, she activated Misidentify and veiled herself and lowered her level down to mid-three hundred. After all, it must look like she had done some leveling up.

The guards appointed there were taken aback by her sudden entrance. She didn't even let them speak, as she was no doubt too late.

"I am Meera, but I'm sure you already know that," she said quickly. "Where is my room, or better yet, where is the gala happening?"

She could change into a fancy dress on the way. She would've liked to take a quick shower, but she doubted she had the time for it now.

"Reverent Lady!" cried a familiar voice from inside the hallway that led to the doorway. A moment later, Vasda showed up, running down the steps to bow to her. "I'm sorry for the forward question, but where have you been? We've been looking for you for days. Prince Manazhar said that you've gone to train, but most of the people thought that you'd run off."

"Didn't really run off, but my training took a different turn," Meera replied. "Besides, do we have time to talk about this? Shouldn't you be getting me ready for the gala?"

That got her into motion. "Ah, yes, right this way, My Lady."

Meera nodded to the bewildered guards who had gawked at her with open mouths. The palace was packed with rushing people. It was like the whole place was in a frenzy. Servants moving so fast that they were nearly running, carrying dresses and trays of food and fine wines. But even with all the movement, there was not a speck of dirt or a thing out of place. It was chaos, but organized chaos.

It didn't take them long to reach Meera's room. Her room must've been in the guest wing of the palace, and it was in even more turmoil. Important people and dignitaries were moving about so fast, but they all stopped to stare at Meera. She was feeling thoroughly awkward by the time, she reached her room. She breathed a sigh of relief when Vasda shut the door behind her.

"I've had your dress ready, My Lady," she began. "I'll help you get dressed, but we'll have to be quick about it as the gala is beginning very soon. We don't have much time—"

"I want to take a bath," Meera declared.

"Now?" Poor Vasda was nearly horrified. "But there is no time. I won't be able to do your hair and makeup and put the dress on you if you take a shower now."

"Then a quick dip will have to do," Meera replied.

"But—"

Meera held her by the shoulders. "Vasda, if you only knew what I was doing for the past four days, you would've happily agreed to scrub me clean yourself. So, a bath first, please."

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"O-Okay, as the Reverent Lady commands."

She practically ran to the bathtub and filled it up with her skill that let her pour water from her hand. Meera took off her necklace and jumped into the cool water, sighing. If she could, she would've stayed there for an hour, but alas, she didn't have that much time. So, she quickly scrubbed herself with the soap that lay on the table, dried herself, and put on her necklace again.

Vasda was waiting patiently, and by waiting patiently, she was wringing her hands as she paced before the bed that held the dazzling dress she had picked out for Meera. It was an emerald green in color that shone in the firelight. Its skirt was fluffy, and after so long in her armor, she was sure that walking around in that would be quite tricky.

"That is a pretty dress," Meera commented.

"Yes, Prince Sekaramal had sent it for you," Vasda replied. "He had hoped that you would wear it for the gala."

Meera slapped her forward. "Oh crap, I had agreed to go to the gala with him."

Vasda's eyes widened. "Oh crap, indeed. This dress alone is going to take the better part of an hour, and then your hair and makeup. The gala would be well on its way by the time we finish. His Highness will not be pleased."

"You leave that with me. Can you please hold the dress up?"

Vasda frowned, but did as Meera asked. She held up the dress, and Meera motioned for her to turn it around, memorizing all its edges and floral designs.

"Okay, this shouldn't be too difficult." Meera cracked her fingers and willed her armor to change. It took the form of the dress. It started from the top. Her breastplate transformed into an exquisite top adorned with numerous vines and intricate floral designs. It travelled downwards to make a long, fluffy skirt of her leggings. Within moments, she stood in a replica of the dress.

"So, what do you think?" Meera asked, giving her a twirl.

Her maid's jaw was on the floor. "How did you…"

"Do we have time for that?" Meera smirked. "Shouldn't you be fixing up my hair and makeup?"

That shook her out of her daze. "But the color is all wrong. This dress is emerald green, but yours is still black and gold."

Meera shrugged. "Maybe the prince wouldn't mind the color change."

Vasda didn't bother arguing and brought her over to the dresser, and went to work on Meera's hair, which was still short thanks to that fucking Garas. If she could kill him again, she would.

Vasda didn't take long to finish setting Meera's hair and applying makeup. She looked in the mirror and almost didn't recognize herself. It had been so long since she had gotten dolled up that it was hard to see herself like this.

Maybe I should attend more galas.

"That is great work, Vasda," Meera said. She reached into her Hoard Belt and took out a gold coin, tipping her maid handsomely.

Her eyes widened, and she bowed her head. "Reverent Lady is too kind."

With everything done, Meera was ready. She left with Vasda, as she surely would've gotten lost had she gone by herself. Vasda took her through the servants' hallways, which were used only by the help, as they would be faster and had fewer gawking guests. But as it turned out, there were just as many gawking eyes here.

Thankfully, they arrived at the hall where the gala was going to be held. It was already packed by the time she arrived. Guests with expensive guests and snobbish faces were walking in like they owned the place. Inside, she heard a man announcing everyone in a loud voice, which meant the gala was already in full swing. She just hoped she wasn't too late.

She didn't bother to wait in line and just strode for the door. A few people raised eyebrows, but when the guards bowed to her and called her by her title. The look of exasperation vanished, and they were staring at her as if she were divinity.

When she walked in, it was a whole different story. The hall was what one would expect to grace the palace of the gods. It was decorated so beautifully that one couldn't help but wonder if human hands were behind it. Multi-colored torches hung in the air, lighting up the place. Meera paused. She had seen torches like this before, and she didn't like them anymore.

She had taken two steps when her date to the gala found her. Prince Sekaramal looked dashing. With his broad shoulders and what looked to be a military uniform of pearly white with a red sash and many stars pinned to his breast, he cut a handsome, yet powerful figure.

"My, my, you're like the goddess Midiea herself, shining with heavenly beauty and elegance." He took Meera's hand and planted a gentle kiss on it.

Meera smiled, feeling heat in her cheeks. "Thank you, Your Highness."

"You have impeccable timing. You missed out on all the boring bits," he said. "My brothers and I are about to announce our trials for the throne."

"Well, isn't that amazing?" Meera said.

"Right, this way. If you would please follow me, I'll take you to the royal pavilion."

Meera walked with him, arm in arm. It took them a while to even see where the pavilion was, as walking through the sea of gaping people was awkward enough. They arrived at the royal pavilion, which was on a raised dais right in the middle of the hall. But as she was walking, she caught a glimpse of someone that made her pause.

An older-looking woman, with a glass of wine in her hands, was staring daggers at her. She knew this woman.

[Sorceress of Paper – Level 731]

It was Duinith.

If the sorceresses were here, then that meant the princess had invited them. She must've known that Meera would see them. It was almost like the princess was putting the sorceresses in her path to see how Meera would react.

Meera nodded to Duinith with a slight smile.

The older woman didn't return the nod, kept on glaring at her, but then another sorceress joined her. One that really drove Meera up the wall—Firaan. This one smiled and nodded at her. She snapped her head away because if she kept staring at her, she might've hurled a chakram at her.

They finally arrived at the royal pavilion where the royal siblings were seated. The God King sat on his throne. He gave her a slight bow and a smile. Meera bowed her head in return.

Sekaramal took her to where his brothers and sister awaited, and it seemed his youngest brother was there as well. The only prince she hadn't met yet.

They all stood to greet her. Meera didn't even hear the others' greetings when the youngest prince turned towards her and smiled.

He was none other than Garal.

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