The imperial bells of St. Jude’s Cathedral chimed twelve crisp, resonance-filled strokes, their deep bronze echo rolling over the gilded rooftops of the capital.
It was a day the High Empire would record in its histories for generations—the union of Lady Evelyn Vane and Duke Alexander Vance, the fearsome Grand Commander of the Northern Legions. Where once court rumors whispered of a cold marriage of political convenience, the sheer grandeur of the occasion silenced every doubting tongue.
Thousands of citizens lined the cobblestone avenues, throwing white lily petals beneath the iron-shod hooves of the Ducal honor guard. Inside the Great Cathedral, sunlight filtered through soaring stained-glass windows, casting ruby and sapphirine hues over the gathered ranks of high nobility, foreign am
