The doors creaked open.
Servants rushed in with hurried, joyful smiles. Two of them carried ornate jewelry boxes, while another held a crystal comb that had been pre-warmed with a gentle heating spell. Outside, the faint strains of music began to drift through the air—the soft melodies of flutes and harps signaling that the procession was about to begin.
"Lady Elara, it is almost time," one of the servants said, her voice bright with excitement.
Elara nodded. She allowed them to adjust her veil and smooth the folds of the gown that lay perfectly across her lap, ensuring that not a single Snow Chrysanthemum embroidery was wrinkled. In her hands, she clutched a small bouquet—fresh Snow Chrysanthemums plucked only this morning.
The door opened again.
Aurelia entered, with Raveena following close behind.
