The next morning arrived far too peacefully.
Which was exactly why Sebastian didn't trust it.
The palace was quiet.
Not silent.
Just... calm.
The kind of calm that settled over a kingdom when everyone was focused on the same thing.
The wedding.
Every corridor seemed brighter.
Every servant seemed busier.
Every noble seemed determined to insert themselves into preparations they had absolutely no business involving themselves in.
And somehow—
despite everything that had happened over the past weeks—
life continued.
The world had not ended.
The abyss had not swallowed the kingdom.
Ancient horrors had remained suspiciously absent.
Nobody was screaming.
Nothing was exploding.
Rael had only been thrown out of two meetings.
By palace standards, it was an excellent day.
Unfortunately—
Sebastian couldn't stop thinking about the letter.
The words replayed endlessly in the back of his mind.
The bride is not the destination.
She is the door.
