The palace had not known rest for days.
From the southern kitchens to the high balconies draped in silk, every corridor carried the scent of anticipation. Servants hurried with armfuls of flowers; tailors knelt in corners adjusting hems; scribes scratched out invitations bearing the royal seal of Virelia.
And at the center of it all was Aurelia.
She did not merely supervise Vaelric's birthday celebration—she breathed it into existence.
Three days remained until the young prince would turn another year older, and Aurelia refused to allow even the smallest imperfection to slip through her grasp.
She inspected the banquet lists herself, tasted the sugared almonds, corrected the musicians' rehearsal schedule, adjusted the placement of lanterns in the eastern garden.
"No," she said gently but firmly that afternoon, shifting a crystal vase a few inches to the left. "The lilies must frame the fountain, not obscure it. Vaelric loves watching the koi swim. He must see them clearly."
