The snowflakes danced around Regulus like delicate ballerinas, their gentle touch a soothing balm for his travel-weary soul.
As Alcyone, the solar orb dipped beneath the auroral skyline, casting a warm, golden glow upon the lush verdure of the Willow Garden, the eyes of the young Kinglet sparkled with excitement descending from the carriage.
Tears of joy streamed down Vega's face like autumn rain as she enveloped her son in a warm, tender embrace.
The scent of blooming flowers and fresh-cut grass filled the air, intoxicating the senses.
Rigel, Regulus' older brother, stood by, a warm smile etched across his face as he witnessed the reunion.
The trio soon rode home in the Duchess' flamboyant carriage, its wheels creaking in rhythm with the distant music of laughter and whispers.
Regulus regaled his mother with tales of his adventures, while Rigel listened intently, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.
Upon their arrival at the castle, Vega personally combed Regulus' hair, stretching those frizzy curls into braids.
He looked neat and extricate, all ready for the Glacieara, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
The night of the Glazier Ball arrived, and the frosty realm of Cedarlake was transformed into an overwhelming gala, a tapestry of colors and sounds that threatened to overwhelm the senses.
All nine kingdoms of Osiris had flooded the realm, their monarchs and nobles gathered around the Great Glass mountain, Mount Avarion, like stars around a celestial body.
The Titanous elliptical coliseum of ice, constructed upon a solid frozen lake —Crystalhaven, shimmered like a thousand diamonds under the specters of the auroras.
Peasants figure-skated beneath the mesmerizing specters, their movements akin to ballet in a stunning Cryovora —the "Dance of Ice."
The music was a living, breathing entity, weaving in and out of the laughter and whispers like a silver thread.
Pyromancers, cheerleaders, mascots, dancers, and orchestras entertained solemnly and devotedly, their performances, an attestation to the power of art and esoterica.
Fireworks illuminated the night sky, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across Crystalhaven.
Great icy figurines of the monarchs stood sentinel around the coliseum, their faces frozen in time, their eyes gleaming with a fierce inner light.
Regulus and Polaris watched from the pinnacle of the coliseum, the petite blonde princess swathed in a dazzlingly gorgeous gown, her hair brushed neatly until it shone like the sun.
"That's quite a gathering," Regulus said, his eyes scanning the crowd.
"Indeed it is," Polaris replied, her gaze following Regulus'.
"The entire realm is here."
As the Royals arrived, Regulus and Polaris gossiped about the monarchs, their cities, and their scandals.
They discussed the contrasting sigils and secret rivalries, their whispers lost in the music and laughter.
The Chrono Kinetic Monarch of the Realm of Shadows, Acrux, descended from the auroral heavens upon a titanous translucent floating stingray, his tamed varmint.
The Vicar of Gemrain was a slender wise handsome middle-aged man with dark hair, fading silver by the sides, and turquoise eyes, akin to a gem.
His robes were dark and purple, long and well-fabricated, billowing behind him like a dark cloud.
"Who's that?" Regulus whispered, his gaze fixed on Acrux.
"That's the father of big brother's betrothed," Polaris replied, studying the dark petals of the Vicar.
"Really? I hear he's the greatest Chrono Kinetic to ever walk the planet. But they got absolutely nothing in common."
"Yeah, her mother's redheaded.
Morava inherited her maternal appearance and personality," Polaris added.
"Fun fact, they've got the best Vulnorox crystals, he's gifted a pair to my brother for his name-day.
Had them smithed into a blade or two."
The next to arrive was the Duke of Aethoria, Monarch of the City of Fragrance.
He descended from the horizon, mounted on a Phoenix, his dutiful varmint.
Lord Corvus was a delicately handsome man with the air of a raven, his eyes gleaming with a brilliant sapphire blue.
"Hey, that's your half-brother's father, innit?" Polaris inquired, curiousity laced in her voice.
"Affirmative," Regulus replied.
"Heard he longed to slit your throat as a baby."
Polaris' gossip infuriated Regulus, who's reply was rather calm.
"Don't our fathers all desire to have our heads?"
The night wore on, the monarchs arriving one by one, each with their own unique entourage and story to tell.
The next monarch to arrive was Lord Taurus, Guardian of the archipelagos of Seacrest.
Banners of his sigil were waved in the air by fanatic citizens, the Sky Saunterer descended on a double-headed gargoyle, the sigil of Seacrest, intimidatingly fierce.
"He refused us passage into the Willow Gardens, won't let me see the Duchess, I don't like him," Regulus whispered to Polaris.
The Empress of Gems arrived, mounted on a stupendous three-headed hound, Cerberus.
Queen Phecda was a stunningly voluptuously gorgeous milf in her early thirties with ravenous dark hair and emerald green eyes shimmering in the star-sun.
Mesmerizing in a chakric draped gown, the Empress of Gems was adorned with beaded details, medallion embellishments and an extravagant design that showcased the spherical ornaments resembling chakras, positioned perfectly across her front.
"Look at her," Polaris said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's stunning."
"...Indeed she is," Regulus replied, his eyes fixed on the Empress.
"But there's something about her that seems...off."
Phecda's antler shaped diamond tiara shrilled in the light as it glared.
Her expression seemed bored and nonchalant, escorted by young female virgin acolytes, hand in hand.
The Queen of Diamondhelm was the second wealthiest in all Osiris.
Curiously, Regulus and Polaris gossiped about the tragic demise of her husband and her rapid ascension to the throne, suspicion dimming their eyes.
Next to arrive was the Vulcan king, Alioth, Earl of the City of the Sun, Suncrest.
He was an agile plump ginger-head with a crop of red beard.
Arriving, mounted on a humongous Rhino, its skin cracking ethereally with magma.
"Any comment?" Regulus asked Polaris.
"None," she replied awkwardly as the chubby monarch was received.
Draco, the monarch of Roverhelm, Imperial Ruler of the City of Industrialists, rode into the coliseum on a titanous crystalline scorpion.
He was a fearless warrior who never smiled, with monolid eyes glaring violet and epicanthal folds.
"Look at him," Polaris whispered. "He's so...intimidating."
Regulus nodded in agreement. "And his children are just as fascinating."
Draco's long straight hair stretched to his back, draped dashingly in his cultural attire, a sparkling white montsuki.
His neatly pressed undergarment was cream, his Haori jacket was white as snow, his obi belt was gray, suspended beneath his coat cord.
He fiddled with his kinpachu pouch, sensually, a silly habit, and his setta sandals were a perfect fit, demarcating his toes, concealed in sparkly tabi socks.
He was ushered in by his twin heirs, Adhara and Xandria.
Adhara, the older, was Draco's spitting image, unique with his long dark hair and violet glare, draped in a remarkably identical attire with his father.
Xandria was swathed in a lovely kimono, ravishing as she.
Demurely delicate, she bore the strikingly remarkable family resemblance still, though, a bit shorter than her brother.
The tips of her hair strands faded into a blend of violet and turquoise.
They served as the Beta and Enchantress to Roverhelm.
Regulus and Polaris gossiped about the twins and their infamously rumored "intimacy."
The sigil of the industrial kingdom was the yin and yang symbol.
The Tech Mage of Silverline emerged on his gargantuan pterosaur, Antares.
His critter symbolized his immortality.
Elven-looking, dwarfed, and pointy-eared, yet his genius was responsible for the rapidly developing technology of all the kingdoms in Osiris.
Soon, Tadmor erupted from the distant end of the glass iced lake, mounted on a nightmarish sixty-footed kraken, pulsing with a bioluminescent lure, crimson yet ethereal.
Neither head nor tail could be seen, civilians scrambling in terror.
Reggie and Polaris held hands, fretting silently.
Though the son of the Tempest, his father sent shivers down his spine, giving him goosebumps.
The Lord of the Tempest was unmounted, perching on his feet, wielding the most sacred relic in all Cedarlake, a golden scepter that ruled the storm.
The kinglet gulped as his eyes followed his father to the gathering of crowns.
Last but not least, the overlord of all the nine realms graced the scene with his presence.
Archernar, the Monarch of Lunarfrost, the Empire of Light, was mounted on his enormously ethereal winged golden lion, The Griffin of Lunar.
He was exquisitely admirable in his armory of gold, his blonde locks cascading like a buttercup river.
His beard too, glossed like heated gold, and his eyes were blue as the skies, reminiscent of Cervantes.
After all, he was the father of both blondes, Vantes and Polaris.
His helm bore wings at each side, adorning him with the air of a god, and a great Crystalline blade forged from Vulnorox gems was nestled across his back.
He rode his griffin with slow precision, for all Cedarlake to behold and reverence.
The people's applause, like clattering rains, resonated through the atmosphere, accompanied by patriotic chants.
The Monarch unmounted his varmint abruptly, escorted by loyal knights to the far end of the coliseum, upon a raised dais where he sat.
Yet, somehow, a few royal acquaintances could spot a hollowness within, a widower, deprived of a queen, shortly after Polaris' birth.
"Father!" Polaris mouthed, staring at the Golden King.
"Certainly won't wanna mess with your Overlord father," Regulus' sarcasm was evident.
"And neither would I," Polaris retorted.
As the night wore on, the Glazier Ball continued, a dazzling display of luxury and extravagance.