The evening sun had long slipped behind the horizon, leaving the corridors of Ivanova Castle bathed in the soft golden glow of candelabras.
Shadows stretched along the polished marble floors, flickering as nobles filed out of the great hall after another council meeting.
Whispers clung to the walls like smoke, curling from room to room, carrying news, speculation, and hidden agendas.
Even as the council's proceedings had ended, the air remained thick with tension.
Every noble, every advisor, carried with them a mind sharpened by ambition, jealousy, and strategy. In the corridors, the echo of whispered names—Ariana, Prince Kai, and even Queen Augusta—hung like a weight none dared ignore.
Lady Mirabelle's daughters, Katarina and Elizaveta, moved along the hallway with grace, their faces composed but eyes sharp.
Katarina's hazel gaze flicked to the side, noting the subtle bow of Lord Dorian, a noble of the House of Veyra, whose ambitions for favor were widely known.
