The grand banquet hall glittered beneath chandeliers strung with crystal, polished to gleam like stars captured in glass. Noblemen and women filled the floor, their silks and velvets whispering of wealth, secrets, and ambition sharpened like blades.
The scent of rare wines and spices hung in the air, mingling with laughter a shade too sharp and smiles stretched a touch too wide. Tonight, the court of Valeria had gathered to welcome home the forgotten prince.
Aric stepped inside. His figure, dark against the lavish light, cut through the decadence with a presence that silenced the room in a heartbeat.
His expression was blank, eyes cold as tempered steel. At his side walked Serina—a shadow of loyalty, gaze sharp and wary, matching his every step.
This was a hall of lions dressed as lambs, predators veiled in embroidery and jewels. But here was Aric: a man who had known war and death, resurrected by resilience.
