The grand hall was alive with murmurs as news of the arriving guests spread through the palace. Nobles straightened their garments, guards adjusted their blades, and servants scurried to prepare the space. King Kaelen Varyn had summoned his court for a diplomatic meeting—but the air was far too charged for mere diplomacy.
Avelyn stood at the edge of the ballroom, cloaked in deep crimson and black, her silver-blonde hair tumbling down her back in loose waves. Her eyes, rimmed with soft kohl, gleamed like moonlit steel. She was no longer the girl who flinched under the weight of her past. Not after the night her mask broke. Not after Kaelen saw her and chose her, flaws and all.
Still, her fingers curled into her gown when she heard the name whispered on noble lips: Malrik Thorne.
He was h
