Minutes before the ceremony reached its peak, unease had already begun to coil beneath the Astiel like a hidden storm.
"That Jinkan is here to cause trouble," Prince Denard muttered under his breath, his eyes tracking the Amarhikk delegation across the terraces. "Keep your eyes on them."
The guards bowed subtly and melted back into the crowd, their senses spread wide.
Denard then turned to the woman beside him.
Klea stood straight, her expression composed, yet there was an absence behind her eyes that unsettled him.
"You've been quiet," he said, studying her carefully. "What did she say to you?"
Klea's lips parted slowly, and when she answered, her voice came soft and uneven, as if she were waking from a long dream. "She said… someone has returned... Emery… Who is he?"
For the briefest moment, the prince's composure fractured.
He did not answer her.
Instead, he turned sharply toward a nearby attendant. "Where is Caelthar?"
