Nobles gathered in clusters like gossiping birds, cloaks rustling like wings, voices low and full of drama. At the far end of the massive golden-tiled chamber sat the king and queen, the most powerful pair in the realm—and gods, they were smirking.
The Queen’s eyes were practically twinkling with royal mischief. She didn’t say a word, but she raised her teacup as if to toast me silently.
The King gave Alaric a long look that said: I’m watching you, son, and then gave me a wink that said: And I approve.
We bowed. With all the grace I could muster in travel-wrinkled silks and post-carriage-kissing glow.
The Royal Council was present. Ugh. Political buzzards in velvet robes, most of them older than the chandelier. A few nodded politely. Some pretended I didn’t exist. One Baron—who I recog
