The palace glowed in soft amber light, its grand corridors whispering with servants' footsteps and the faint scent of jasmine from the evening lamps. Aurelia dismissed Lyra with a tired smile after the long day of etiquette and politics lessons — her mind a storm of names, borders, and courtly manners that barely seemed to matter in a world where men and power played their own rules.
Once the maid was gone, the chamber grew too still. The quiet pressed in on her like silk drawn too tight. She sighed, glancing at the balcony where the faint call of nightbirds beckoned. "I'll just walk a bit," she murmured to herself, throwing on a light cloak. The palace at night was her only reprieve — no tutors, no prying eyes, no careful curtsies. Just the cool breath of dusk and the sound of her own footsteps echoing softly on marble floors.
