Chapter 237: Chapter 237: Intentional chaos

Mia Black was not panicking, or so she wanted to believe. Not even while sitting in the Royal Opera Hall of Saha, surrounded by nobles dressed like magazine covers and presidents disguised as bored art patrons.

She tugged at the sleeve of the dress Denise had chosen for her, a shimmering teal thing that felt both too soft and too heavy, with embroidery she didn’t want to know the price of.

Denise had called it “reasonable.”

Which meant it could pay off Mia’s old debt, buy her an apartment, and still leave enough to feed a small capital city.

She shifted in her seat.

’Okay. Maybe I am panicking a little.’

She looked down at the program, pretending to read the synopsis of the opera. Something about political grief and symbolic birds. Mia didn’t have the emotional energy for symbolic birds right now.

Because in the span of half a year, her entire life had turned upside down.

She adjusted the program again, trying not to wrinkle the dress she feared Denise would somehow sense from across the hall. It wasn’t just the fabric or the nobles or the stage lights that made her pulse jump; it was the gnawing awareness that nothing about her life resembled what it had been six months ago.

She used to be a communications technician.

She used to spend her days repairing tablets and configuring comms systems, the sort of work that required quick hands and no social standing whatsoever. Now she was attending state events because her family name actually meant something, because her brothers didn’t just change their lives, they changed hers without asking.

Chris especially.

Her eyes drifted toward the royal box before she could stop herself. The doors were still open, and she caught a brief glimpse of him stepping inside with Dax close at his shoulder. The sight should have been impossible, her sarcastic, hoodie-wearing brother dressed in formal consort attire, moving with calm authority, and standing beside a king as though he’d always belonged there.

Mia swallowed around the tightness creeping up her throat. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this, carrying his new role with a quiet dignity that made even the nobles hush when he passed. She wanted to be happy for him, and she was, fiercely so, but the enormity of the change pressed on her in ways she couldn’t name.

Andrew slid into the seat beside her a moment later, expression unreadable behind his glasses. He looked perfectly at ease, which Mia suspected was a lie he had perfected as a prosecutor.

“Breathing?” Andrew murmured without looking at her.

“Mostly,” she whispered back. “If I faint, blame the dress.”

“If you faint, blame the Maleks,” he replied, eyes forward. “It’s statistically their fault ninety percent of the time.”

A huff of amusement escaped her. The familiar banter steadied her in a way nothing else could.

The orchestra began tuning, soft notes filling the hall. Mia sat up straighter, trying to emulate the poise Denise kept drilling into her. She failed spectacularly but at least looked committed.

Still, the nerves didn’t quite fade. The opera hadn’t yet begun, but the weight of expectation hung over her like a second, invisible gown, being the Black family’s daughter, being an heiress, being someone nobles now watched with interest instead of dismissing entirely.

She folded her hands in her lap and tried to breathe evenly.

Maybe she was panicking more than a little.

But she was here.

And somehow, she was going to make it through the night without embarrassing her entire lineage.

Probably. If she was going to embarrass the family, she decided, she would at least do it intentionally. Something memorable. Something Andrew would pinch the bridge of his nose over, and Denise would lecture her about it during breakfast, and Chris would absolutely laugh while pretending to be mature.

That thought relaxed her more than any breathing exercise ever had.

She let her gaze drift again toward the royal box. The doors were now closed, but the image lingered, Chris moving with careful grace, Dax a comforting presence beside him. It wasn’t the surreal shock it had been the first time she saw them together, but it still struck her somewhere deep and unguarded. Chris seemed… strong now. Not adrift the way he used to be, not bracing himself for impact every time life shifted under his feet.

Seeing that brought a quiet warmth to her chest she didn’t dare acknowledge out loud. If she did, she’d start crying, and that would ruin both the eyeliner and her newfound reputation for not falling apart in public.

Andrew exhaled beside her, running a quick hand over his tie as though recalibrating his own nerves. Mia pretended not to notice. He pretended not to notice her noticing. Typical.

“You’ll be fine,” he said eventually, voice low.

“I am fine,” Mia replied quickly.

“You’re vibrating.”

She glared at him. “Fashion is restricting. It’s not nerves.”

“Mm.” Andrew did not sound convinced.

Mia elbowed him lightly, which earned her a faint, amused sigh. They fell back into a familiar silence, one she didn’t realize she’d missed until now. Their world was different, but the three of them were still the same underneath it. Chris would always be her brother. Andrew would always be exasperated. And she… well, she was still Mia, even if Mia now apparently came in couture.

Lights dimmed at last. The hall stilled. Conversations tapered into whispers.

Mia straightened again, shoulders tense but lifted with determination. She wasn’t entirely comfortable, and she wasn’t entirely confident, but she was here, in a place she never imagined she’d belong, and that had to count for something.

If she fumbled a curtsy later, she’d survive.

If she said something louder than etiquette allowed, she’d survive that too.

And if anyone dared whisper about her brothers or their place in this world…

Well.

Mia Black knew exactly where to aim a well-thrown program book.

The orchestra surged into the first notes, and Mia lifted her chin with all the dignity she could muster.

She was going to make it through the night.

And if she caused chaos by accident or design, she’d do it beautifully.

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