The corridors of the Palace of Lavender were too wide to seem like mere corridors. The walls had pale stone, violet banners, crystallized-blood lamps, and tall doors with discreet symbols engraved along the edges. It was not a place made to flaunt wealth like the Palace of Roses, nor to intimidate through pure military tradition. Lavender felt quieter. More calculated. The kind of place where someone could die before realizing they had entered enemy territory.
Victor walked behind Eleonora without a shirt, because he still had not returned to his room to change and because no one there had the right to pretend surprise after invading his training time. Eleonora noticed the glances of staff and a few young vampires in the corridors, but did not comment. Victor did not either. If the Palace of Lavender wanted to observe him, then it could observe properly.
