The heavy wooden doors at the back of the meeting hall swung open, and the deep, haunting sound of string instruments drifted into the room. Before the formal treaty could be signed, the tradition of the High Council demanded a formal opening ceremony—a visual display of unity to prove that the factions could share the same space without tearing each other's throats out.
Julian stood up from the heavy oak table, his massive chest rising as he took a deep, steadying breath. He turned to me, the sharp edges of his handsome face softening as his amber eyes locked onto mine. He extended his large, warm hand, his fingers completely steady.
"May I have this dance, my future Queen?" he asked, his deep baritone voice smooth and completely calm.
I looked at his open palm, my chest tightening unt
