The east wing dining hall felt different that night.
Candles burned low in iron holders. The long dark-wood table held silver bowls of black roses and platters of roasted quail, spiced figs, honeyed wine, and warm bread. Chairs stood in neat rows. One seat at the head looked grander than the rest. Its right-hand chair waited empty.
The women prepared in their chambers.
Cat chose deep crimson silk that hugged her waist. Lulu picked soft lavender. Elara wore charcoal velvet. Lira adjusted silver thread in her hair and practiced saying "Lira" aloud. Bri helped Luna fasten a midnight-blue gown. Their hands moved with quiet care.
Husbands assisted without commands.
Lord Blackthorn knelt to lace Cat's back. His fingers stayed steady despite the ache in his locked cock. "You look beautiful, Cat," he whispered. She turned and touched his cheek. "Thank you."
Lord Voss fastened Elara's necklace. "Elara," he murmured. She met his eyes in the mirror and nodded.
