The small banquet hall was a masterpiece of suffocating elegance, draped in heavy velvet tapestries that swallowed the afternoon light. A single rectangular table of polished obsidian stood in the center, reflecting the flickering glow of a silver candelabra like a pool of dark water. The scent of jasmine tea mingled with the faint, biting aroma of floor wax and the underlying chill of stone walls. Outside, the winds of the Silent Valley had been replaced by the deceptive stillness of the inner palace. Constantine sat at the head of the table, his silhouette sharp against the dim backdrop. Across from him sat the three most influential men in Astraia: Duke Valerion, Duke Oros, and Duke Castellan. They wore their ceremonial silks and heavy gold chains, but their faces were etched with a com
