The royal chambers were quiet when they finally escaped the celebration.
Servants had been dismissed hours ago. Candles flickered on every surface, casting soft shadows across the walls. The bed had been turned down, fresh linens folded at the foot. Lysa's quilt lay across the corner, a splash of colour against the white.
Seren stood in the centre of the room, her silver dress catching the candlelight. Three rings glittered on her finger. The locket was warm against her chest.
Behind her, the door closed.
Kael leaned against it, his arms crossed, his eyes hungry. Theron moved to the window, staring out at the moon. Aeron stood beside the fireplace, his hand on the mantel, his back to her.
They were giving her space. Letting her set the pace.
"You're all staring," Seren said.
"You're worth staring at," Kael replied.
"I'm a mess. My hair is falling down. My feet hurt. I think I spilled wine on my dress."
"You're beautiful."
