“It may not need to,” said Alexander, cutting in. “If the claiming sealed the bond, then ritual is tradition, not necessity.”
Eleanor looked at her son sharply. He was treading a delicate line.
Vivienne folded her hands. “Let us consider all options. The people need reassurance. But they don’t need a crown. They need hope.”
The second course was served, warm sweetgrain soup with rosemary drizzle, and crisp moonfruit slices. More quiet eating. More delicate conversation.
Later, as the dinner wound down, Victor stood once more.
“I’ll send an emissary tomorrow,” he said. “To begin gentle arrangements. Nothing formal until you are ready.”
Jaxon nodded. Sienna managed a smile.
The guests began to rise. Chairs scraped softly. Murmurs rose.
Eleanor stepped beside Vivienne, voice low.
“We
