The ballroom held its breath.
Or maybe I did.
The room was still alive with shimmering movement—skirts catching the light like falling stars, voices laced with silken bravado—but everything around me dimmed, just a little, as I turned back to Callum. The music below had shifted to something quieter, a string ensemble tuning into a haunting prelude. My hand rested on the carved railing, steady in appearance, but my pulse thudded beneath my skin, uneven.
“The Aureum Trial,” I repeated, barely more than a whisper. “What… is it?”
Callum’s jaw tightened. Not with annoyance—but with caution, as if he wasn’t sure how much to say. Then he exhaled, folding his hands neatly in front of him, gaze fixed on the marble below.
“It’s… not something they advertise in the pamphlets,” he began softly, v
