Julian materialized at the gates of Ravenshade Manor, the familiar hum of the wards brushing against his aura before allowing him through. The air carried the faintest trace of rosemary and candle smoke — evidence of yet another event his mother insisted upon hosting.
He stood a moment, his coat catching the afternoon breeze, his jaw tightening as he exhaled. "What's with the incoming drama again?" he muttered, raking a hand through his dark hair before pushing open the massive iron doors.
The manor halls were alive with activity. Servants bustled like bees in a hive, carrying silver trays, shifting polished chairs, arranging an abundance of bloodwine glasses that glimmered faintly under chandelier light. The air was cloying with the scent of roses and lavender, as though an entire garden had been strangled and displayed indoors.
