The palace transformed at dusk.
By the time the first carriages rolled through the iron gates, the marble corridors had been turned into corridors of light. Chandeliers blazed overhead, hundreds of candles reflected in polished floors, banners of both Eldoria and Veyrath hanging in deliberate symmetry from the vaulted ceilings.
Music floated from the ballroom in tentative notes as musicians tuned their instruments.
The court arrived dressed in silk and jewelry.
And in the eastern wing, Elias stood before a very tall mirror.
He wore nothing yet but a thin linen undershirt and dark trousers. His hair fell loosely down his back, long.
Mina stood behind him already dressed.
She wore deep crimson — not bright scarlet but something darker, almost arterial. The bodice was structured, her shoulders sharp beneath embroidered leatherwork. A thin dagger rested in a jeweled sheath at her thigh, invisible but Elias knew it was there.
