Mero, accompanied by his faithful companions, arrives in the summer capital of Qit, an architectural jewel where the centuries-old tradition of the north harmoniously blends with bold modernity. As their convoy engages on the grand paved avenues, Mero is immediately struck by the majesty of the place. The buildings lining the streets, imposing and elegant, display facades adorned with delicate sculptures carved from light-colored stone and enhanced with filigrees of pure gold. These details capture the brilliant summer sunlight, casting golden reflections that dance on the time-worn cobblestones. The domes of the cathedrals, painted in vibrant hues of sapphire blue, carmine red, and gleaming gold, rise with serene pride above the ocre-tiled roofs. Their smooth surfaces shimmer like gems embedded in the urban fabric, contrasting with a sky so purely blue it seems painted by a divine artist.

  The streets buzz with palpable energy. Luxurious carriages, their varnished wood gleaming under the sun, glide gracefully over the cobblestones, pulled by robust horses from the northern steppes. Their thick manes sway with each movement, and their breath forms small vaporous clouds in the warm air, a vestige of their rusticity amidst the city's opulence. The markets, veritable kaleidoscopes of colors and sounds, come alive with the cries of merchants hawking their treasures: exotic spices whose peppery and sweet aromas waft through the air, furs so soft they evoke the caress of a breeze, and jewelry set with precious stones from the far reaches of the empire, sparkling like captive stars. Mero feels his pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and wonder at this profusion of riches and novelties.

  Ki, their guide, advances with a quiet confidence, her eyes sparkling with pride as she presents her native city. Mandarine, walking beside Mero, observes every detail with insatiable curiosity, her gaze lingering on the arches of bridges and the shimmering reflections of the canals. Hélène, impassive, moves through the crowd with the innate grace of a sovereign, her regal bearing suggesting she already belongs to this world of grandeur. Sven and Dorian, inseparable and curious, pause near the quays where impressive river vessels rest, their gleaming hulls and neatly folded sails testifying to Qit's prosperous exchanges. Eléonore, meanwhile, slows down before the imperial gardens, where colossal marble statues watch over still pools, their surfaces reflecting the azure sky and the verdant foliage of surrounding trees.

  Their destination soon comes into view: the summer palace, the secondary residence of the King of Qit and the summer haven of the emperor. Perched on a verdant hill overlooking the city, the edifice embodies a perfect harmony between power and refinement. Its tall white columns rise like sentinels, supporting finely sculpted balconies and frescoes in vibrant colors that tell centuries of history. A monumental staircase, flanked by artificial waterfalls whose soothing murmur fills the air, leads to the main entrance. Guards in richly embroidered uniforms, their insignia gleaming under the sun, step aside to open the massive doors.

  With a radiant smile, Ki declares, "Welcome to my kingdom. Come, I will show you the most beautiful view of the capital."

  Mero and his friends follow, their enthusiasm palpable, eager to discover what this extraordinary city has in store for them.

  Ki guides them through the sumptuous corridors of the summer palace, a masterpiece where every detail attests to the ingenuity of Qit's artisans. The ceilings, adorned with mythological frescoes of the north, depict scenes of gods riding storms and heroes defying colossal dragons, their vibrant colors seeming to shimmer under the soft light. Crystal chandeliers, suspended like captive stars, illuminate the gilded galleries, casting shimmering prisms on the polished walls. The rooms they traverse are filled with treasures: tapestries woven with threads of gold and silver, dark wood furniture inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and rugs so thick they muffle the sound of their footsteps. Yet, Ki does not slow down, her determined pace betraying her eagerness to reveal a particular wonder.

  They ascend a spiral staircase, the white marble underfoot resonating slightly with each step. Reaching the top, Ki pushes open a sculpted double door, revealing a vast terrace overlooking the city.

  The panorama that unfolds before them is breathtaking. The summer capital stretches out at their feet, bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun. The cathedral domes, resplendent in blue, red, and gold, capture the last rays like beacons in the gathering dusk. The canals, winding through the quarters, reflect a sky painted in fiery hues—deep red, burning orange, and profound purple—transforming the city into a living canvas. Beyond the walls, the steppes stretch to the horizon, an ocean of greenery rippling under a gentle breeze, their contours blurred in the infinite distance.

  Ki, her voice filled with evident pride, announces, "Here is the most beautiful view of all Qit."

  Mandarine, leaning against the stone balustrade, gazes at the scene with silent wonder, her eyes shining like stars. Sven and Dorian exchange a complicit glance, impressed by the vastness of the spectacle. Eléonore, silent, lets her eyes wander over every detail, a rare emotion piercing her usual reserve. Even Hélène, known for her impassivity, pauses for a moment, her gaze lingering on the horizon as if seeking an answer.

  Mero, overwhelmed by the grandeur of this northern capital so different from his familiar world, murmurs, "It's... magnificent."

  A mix of admiration and humility washes over him. Faced with this city, he feels both tiny and privileged, like a traveler permitted to gaze upon an ancient secret. Ki, smiling at his reaction, extends her arms towards the horizon as if to embrace the entire city. "And this is only the beginning. Tomorrow, I will show you the hidden treasures of Qit."

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  The next day, Mero and his friends set out on a joyous exploration of the city. The paved streets, lined with buildings in pastel hues—ochre, pink, and pale blue—vibrate with ceaseless life. Vast squares, surrounded by tall columns, open up here and there, their central fountains casting sparkling droplets in the morning light. Street vendors, set up under colorful awnings, offer tantalizing dishes that fill the air with irresistible aromas. Mandarine hands Mero a skewer of smoked meat, its tender flesh enhanced by a spicy sauce that pleasantly tingles the tongue. Sven, his eyes sparkling, devours a pastry overflowing with sweet cream, leaving white traces on his fingers. Ki, delighted to play host, introduces them to golden fritters coated in honey and sprinkled with crushed hazelnuts, their crunch contrasting with the melting sweetness of the syrup.

  Dorian, savoring each bite, exclaims with enthusiasm, "There's nothing like street food to capture the soul of a country!"

  The princesses are drawn to the refined boutiques lining the boulevards. Hélène, with her usual confidence, selects luxurious fabrics—shimmering silks and deep velvets—without a glance at their price, her fingers brushing the materials with a casual familiarity. Eléonore and Ki, more meticulous, explore the shops carefully, admiring fans adorned with complex floral patterns and delicate jewelry set with iridescent stones.

  Suddenly, Mandarine grabs Mero by the arm, her eyes shining with excitement. "Mero, look at this!"

  She pulls him towards a stall overflowing with fur coats and embroidered shawls. With a mischievous smile, she dons a deep blue coat adorned with silver patterns evoking northern constellations. She spins around, her hair dancing in the breeze, and looks up at Mero, seeking his opinion. "You look stunning," he responds sincerely, admiring how the fabric hugs her figure and brings out the sparkle in her eyes.

  A slight blush colors Mandarine's cheeks, and in a burst of enthusiasm, she pulls Mero towards another stand, determined to have him try something on. Amused by her zeal, he obliges and puts on a dark gray coat lined with fur, which gives him an imposing and elegant appearance.

  Meanwhile, Sven watches Eléonore from the corner of his eye, his hands hesitating in his pockets as if contemplating offering her a gift. Each time she turns her head towards him, a discreet blush spreads across his cheeks, betraying his discomfort. Dorian, for his part, carries Ki's bags with feigned patience, as she accumulates an impressive collection of souvenirs—fabrics, trinkets, and jewelry—her eyes shining with almost childlike joy.

  The afternoon passes in a light atmosphere, punctuated by laughter and discoveries. Towards the end of the day, they arrive at a large square where a troupe of musicians begins a lively tune, the sounds of flutes and drums resonating in the warm air. Without thinking, Mero takes Mandarine's hand, and they let themselves be carried away by the dance, spinning to the rhythm of the music, their laughter blending with the joyful crowd.

  At dusk, the group settles into a restaurant perched on a terrace overlooking the canals. The view is enchanting: lanterns light up one by one, their golden glows reflecting on the calm water, creating a ballet of dancing lights. Ki and Dorian, seated side by side, exchange glances filled with unspoken meaning, their fingers brushing under the table in a poorly concealed secret. Sven and Eléonore, engrossed in a murmured conversation, oscillate between tenderness and restraint, as if still defining the contours of their bond.

  Mandarine, nestled against Mero, rests her head on his shoulder, savoring the softness of the moment. Only Hélène, slightly apart, gazes at the boats gliding silently on the canal, her impassive face masking a subtle melancholy. Mero observes her for a moment, thoughtful. He reflects that the life of an imperial princess must be a heavy burden—every emotion, every attachment risking diplomatic ripples. This thought prompts him to hold Mandarine a little tighter, grateful for the freedom to enjoy these moments unhindered.

  The sky slowly blazes with hues of pink and orange, draping the city in a magical aura. In a spontaneous gesture, Mero whispers an idea to Mandarine, who nods with a complicit smile. Moments later, a servant places a white rose before Hélène. Surprised, the princess raises an eyebrow, delicately taking the flower between her fingers. She examines it, a fleeting smile touching her lips, then scans the table for a clue. Mandarine stifles a laugh against Mero's shoulder, relishing the mystery beginning to pique Hélène's curiosity.

  Intrigued but determined to maintain her composure, Hélène tucks the rose into her hair with natural grace, her gaze returning to the shimmering waters of the canal. Ki, having caught the maneuver, whispers something to Dorian. Soon after, a second servant brings a red lily, placing it before Hélène without a word. This time, her surprise is more evident. She contemplates the two flowers—the white rose and the red lily—and murmurs, "Interesting..."

  Her fingers brush the lily's petals, her mind visibly seeking meaning. Who is orchestrating this game? Why these flowers? Mero and his friends maintain neutral expressions, but inwardly, they delight in seeing the usually composed princess slightly off-balance.

  Sven and Eléonore, too absorbed in their own exchange, notice nothing, adding a touch of irony to the scene. Hélène keeps the flowers close, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. She dislikes mysteries she cannot solve, and this only fuels the group's quiet amusement.

  In a heartfelt impulse, Mero decides to reveal a surprise he has been preparing for months. Leaning towards Mandarine, he whispers in her native language, which he has secretly learned, "This is how the best memories are made among friends."

  Mandarine's eyes widen in astonishment at hearing these familiar words from Mero. For a moment, she remains still, then a radiant smile illuminates her face, her eyes glistening with emotion. "You... You learned my language? For me?" she whispers, her voice trembling.

  Mero nods, a soft pride in his gaze. "It wasn't easy. I had to search long for someone who spoke it and was willing to teach me. But I wanted to surprise you."

  She laughs softly, hiding her face against his shoulder to conceal a discreet tear. "My proud prince... You are far more romantic than you let on."

  Sitting up, she whispers tender words in her language, a soft melody he does not fully understand but whose warmth touches him deeply. Then, she kisses him fleetingly, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

  The evening concludes in an atmosphere of laughter and teasing, while Hélène continues to contemplate her flowers, vainly seeking to unravel their mystery. Mero and his friends, united by these precious moments, know that these memories, woven from grand landscapes and deep bonds, will remain etched in their hearts forever.