[Third Person].
The following day, the palace of Stormveil welcomed its special guests.
Five Fae arrived without noise, without spectacle, yet their presence alone shifted the air within the palace grounds.
The guards remained composed, but even they could feel it—something ancient, something refined.
Draven was there to personally receive them. At his side stood Meredith and her grandmother.
There were no grand proclamations, only a measured welcome as Draven acknowledged them with quiet respect and ushered them inside.
A modest banquet had been arranged. Nothing lavish, but sufficient to honour their arrival.
They sat together, the atmosphere calm yet purposeful. Conversation flowed in a restrained manner—measured exchanges between Draven and the Fae, with Meredith present, occasionally speaking, while her grandmother remained the steady bridge between both sides.
There was no distrust, but there was awareness.
This was not a simple alliance.
