Dawn arrived dressed like celebration... because it technically was
The palace had not slept. From the highest parapets to the lowest kitchens, the air trembled with preparation. Silk banners rolled down marble walls. Courtyards were scrubbed until they reflected the sky. Musicians tuned strings and flutes in nervous excitement. Messengers ran in and out of gates with breathless importance. The cooks had been awake since midnight, turning spices into perfume and grain into glory.
Today, the kingdom would be told.
Today, the world would know.
The bells began first.
Not the emergency bells. Not the mourning bells. These were the ceremonial ones—the deep, rounded chimes that rolled over rooftops and into valleys like a blessing carried by sound. They called farmers from their fields, merchants from their stalls, scholars from their scrolls, children from their games. Heads lifted. Windows opened. Conversations halted mid-sentence.
Something royal was happening.
