ELOWEN
Around six in the evening, the palace turned more alive than usual—servants rushing through the corridors, guards stationed by every archway, and whispers trailing behind every door.
When the maid brought in the evening gown, I honestly didn’t expect it to steal my breath.
A masterpiece of obsidian silk and silver thread — the fabric shimmered faintly like starlight on water. Its bodice was sculpted, the skirt flowing but weightless, and along the hem, the faint symbol of the Alpha Supreme’s crest was embroidered — not bold, but deliberate enough to let people know.
Lucien’s mark...
“He sent this?” I asked, although I was impressed by the gown, I also felt caged.
“Yes, my lady. Along with the royal stylist.” She said and soon, a young woman, around my age, or per
