Rafael stood tall before the massive mirror adorning the wall of his lavish chamber. His broad shoulders were cloaked in an outfit tailored to perfection, befitting his new title as crown prince. A sleek black suit with modern cuts hugged his frame, paired with a long crimson mantle that shimmered subtly under the golden light. The royal crest of Carlies, a gleaming gold emblem, adorned his chest, a symbol of the authority now officially his. Servants moved swiftly around him, adjusting the folds of his suit, slipping white gloves over his hands, and ensuring every detail was immaculate. Rafael, however, remained calm, unfazed by the flurry of activity. His gaze in the mirror reflected the bearing of a leader, though beneath his composed exterior lay a flicker of satisfaction he couldn’t entirely mask. It wasn’t just the restoration of his rightful title that pleased him—it was also the ruin of those who had once dismissed him. "Frederick," Rafael murmured softly, his voice laced