By the next morning, the Crown Prince Palace had stopped pretending it was a residence and fully surrendered to the wedding.
People moved through the private corridors carrying garment bags, flower samples, document folders, jewelry cases, trays of food nobody seemed to have time to eat, and enough ribbons to suggest Saha had temporarily exhausted its national supply.
Dean watched two attendants hurry past the breakfast room with an enormous arrangement of white flowers between them.
A third followed carrying scissors.
Nobody explained anything.
"That one looked urgent," Arion said.
Dean took another sip of coffee.
"I'm afraid to ask."
Theo sat between them at the long table, eating toast with one hand while the wooden dragon occupied the chair beside him. He had dressed himself that morning with limited assistance and wore soft grey trousers, a cream sweater, and one sock slightly higher than the other because he had refused to correct it.
