The world outside had long surrendered to sleep, but within the castle's eastern wing, a low and breathless silence held its own dominion.
Vincenzo's chamber stretched vast and quiet, cloaked in shadow and wealth. The polished black marble floor gleamed beneath golden light—smooth as glass, veined faintly in silver, echoing the hush of late hours. Above, a grand chandelier shimmered softly, its light dancing against dark silk curtains drawn to either side of towering arched glass walls. The night beyond lay still—moonlit and watching.
At one end of the chamber loomed the great bed—immense and untouched, dressed in layered black bedding so rich it seemed to drink the very light. The headboard bore gold-gilded trim and quiet carvings, yet nothing dared disturb the solemn elegance of that onyx rest.
