The Day Of Celebration

In the morning, on the day of the grand celebration, the castle buzzed with quiet preparations and excitement. Footsteps of attendants echoed through the corridors, the soft rustle of gowns and whispering voices weaving together like music of anticipation. The air itself pulsed with a festive rhythm, but for Harmony this day was something far more personal. She could barely contain her excitement. She knew it was her birthday, though the celebration had nothing to do with it—or so she thought. What she didn’t know was that Evander knew … and that a surprise awaited her.

At the threshold of her chamber appeared the canine queen herself. Her bearing was regal yet full of warmth, her tail gently swaying as if embracing Harmony from afar. In her hands she carried a gown that seemed spun from moonlight itself: delicate, flowing, interwoven with silver threads and shimmering shades of moonlit gray-blue.

“Harmony, my dear,” said the queen softly, her voice tender yet royal. Her canine smile was gentle, her ears tilted slightly forward. “This is for you. On this special day, you must shine.”

Beside her stood an experienced stylist, who at once began her careful, practiced work. With skillful hands, she arranged Harmony’s hair, her tail, her gown—every movement infused with reverence, as if preparing a true »princess«. Through the mirror, Harmony watched herself transform—from an ordinary cat girl into a being radiating elegance, strength, and grace. Her ears quivered faintly with nervousness, while her tail swayed unconsciously in rhythm with the rapid beating of her heart.

When the final touch was placed—a delicate tiara that caught rays of the sun—Harmony twirled softly. Her gown shimmered, her eyes sparkled with joy and anticipation. Just the thought of Evander brought warmth to her cheeks and set butterflies swirling wildly in her stomach.

Meanwhile, in another wing of the castle, Evander prepared his princely attire. His uniform was deep blue, trimmed in gold; the epaulettes gleamed, the ceremonial sashes lay perfectly smoothed. Though his appearance was calm, his ears flicked constantly, and his tail swished restlessly—betraying his excitement. With each breath he tried to steady his heart, yet the thought of Harmony stirred him more than anything else.

“She will be breathtaking,” he whispered to himself, ears angling forward, his tail thumping once against the floor in joy. “And when she sees me … she’ll know. This is our moment.”

Just as the stylist finished her work, there was a knock at Harmony’s door. Her heart skipped—but it was not Evander who stood there. It was Lysar, elegant and composed, his eyes full of respect and kindness.

“Harmony,” he said with a gentle smile, “perhaps this seems unusual, but … I would like to escort you. As the brother you never had. It would be an honor to offer you my hand and lead you to Evander.”

Harmony felt warmth at his words. Her ears tinged faintly with shy color, her tail gave a single grateful sweep. “Truly … thank you, Lysar. That means so much to me,” she whispered.

Lysar offered his hand with a graceful bow. “Do not worry. A brother’s hand will lead you safely to him. And you look as a real princess.”

Harmony blushed a bit and gave him a little smile.

»Thank you Lysar.«

They walked slowly through the corridors, their footsteps echoing in a silence filled with tension. Harmony noticed every sound, every flicker of light on the high walls—but all her thoughts were with Evander. Her heart pounded wildly, her ears tilted forward, as if already searching for his voice.

At last, they reached the great doors of the hall. Lysar gently laid his hand on her shoulder. “Here you are,” he murmured. “Now, the moment is yours.”

Harmony drew in a deep breath. Her hands trembled slightly, her ears quivered with nerves, and her tail curled around her leg. She knew—she was about to meet her prince.

Lysar stepped forward to where Evander stood waiting. He looked at him with a mixture of seriousness and warmth. “Make sure she’s truly happy. From now on, I am her brother.”

Evander smiled, his ears flicking back in a gesture of kindness. “Don’t worry. She will be in the best of hands.”

Lysar raised two fingers in a playful yet warning sign, that he will be watching him, before stepping aside. Harmony moved forward, and her eyes met Evander’s—and in that instant, the world around them fell away.

Evander was breathless. His uniform gleamed, his tail swayed in restrained excitement, his heart thundered as he saw her. Harmony was radiant—her feline gaze shone, her gown flowed with every step, the tiara captured the light. Her ears trembled with nerves, her tail swayed gently, as though inviting him into a tender embrace.

Their eyes spoke without words. Sparks danced between them, as if invisible light filled the space. Evander lifted his hand and softly cupped her face. Harmony closed her eyes and smiled—every worry vanished.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.

“And you are the most handsome prince,” she replied softly, her heart racing in a wild rhythm of love.

In that moment, they both knew: they were no longer just a dog prince and a cat girl, but two souls that could never—and would never—be parted.

Evander offerd Harmony his hand and Harmony gently placed her in his. Hand in hand, they turned toward the grand doors. Evander leaned closer, his voice gentle:

“Are you ready?”

Harmony nodded lightly, her eyes glowing, her ears lifted with pride, her tail curling softly around his.

“Always—if you are by my side.”