The royal plane cut through the evening sky with the smooth efficiency that only the finest magical engineering could provide. King Valen Ashbluff reclined in the luxurious cabin, his fingers absently swirling the remnants of golden tequila in his crystal glass. The soft glow of enchanted sconces bathed the private compartment in warm light, reflecting off the polished mahogany fixtures and the intricate royal insignia woven into the silk upholstery.
Beside him, Queen Camila Ashbluff rested her head against his shoulder, her auburn hair slightly disheveled from three exhausting days of border negotiations. Her green eyes held a delicate blend of diplomatic frustration and the bone-deep weariness that came from managing continental politics during wartime.
