King Eric stood near the central fountain, his eyes tracking across the assembled nobility to see who was present
The purple and gold of his formal robes caught the lantern light, making him appear larger than life.
Duke Alaric approached wildly, his white hair gleaming silver in the evening glow. His golden eyes held warmth even as his facial expression was sour.
"Eric," Alaric said bluntly, the familiarity of using the king's given name drawing subtle attention from nearby nobles who pretended not to listen.
"Alaric," Eric replied, his voice carrying genuine pleasure beneath the formal tone. "Good to see you again."
They clasped forearms in the warrior's greeting. Lyra positioned herself three paces behind the king, her pale eyes scanning the gardens with professional paranoia that never rested.
"Walk with me," Eric suggested, gesturing toward a more secluded section of the gardens where flowering hedges provided privacy from curious ears.
