Light Fae Realm:
The Hall of Ancestors had not opened in over three hundred years.
The great silver doors stood at the very heart of the Light Palace, untouched by dust, time, or memory. They rose so high they disappeared into the living canopy above, where branches of the First Tree wove themselves through crystal ceilings before vanishing into the sky itself.
Nothing living had ever been appointed to protect the Hall. The Hall protected itself.
Beatrice stopped several paces behind the Light Fae King. She hadn't expected him to bring her here. She hadn't even known such a place existed.
The corridor leading to it was unlike every other part of the palace. No birds sang among the flowering vines, and no streams floated lazily through the air.
Even the wind seemed unwilling to disturb the silence here. Only their footsteps echoed.
The King stood motionless before the enormous silver doors. He slowly raised one hand.
He did not touch the doors.
