Tempest Thunderbrew gripped the silver staff and watched the courtyard fill with light. Pink blooms covered every branch of the great rose bush built in Serenity's honor. Fairies gathered below it, whispering her rival's name like a prayer. Tempest's storm-dress crackled. Tonight, she would turn that prayer into a scream, and the Court would finally bow to her instead. She waited in the high branches until Serenity stepped beneath the bush. Tempest aimed the staff at the central bloom and released the charge she had spent weeks winding inside it. Lightning struck the petals. They were supposed to wilt, blacken, fall. Instead, the bush drank the bolt. The blooms swelled. They glowed pink, then gold, then brighter than any lantern in the Court. Gasps rose. Applause followed. Serenity tilted her head up into the light, unsurprised, almost amused. "A lovely gift," Serenity said, soft and clear. "I wasn't sure who arranged it. Now I am." Her amber eyes found Tempest in the branches. The Court turned, following her gaze, and began to clap for the hidden benefactor. Tempest's staff went cold in her hand. She had not ruined Serenity's debut. She had crowned it.