(Rosaline POV)
The doors closed behind us with a sound that felt final.
Not loud—just decisive.
Music washed over me in a slow, deliberate tide. Strings led the melody, elegant and restrained, while deeper instruments hummed beneath, grounding the air with a pulse that echoed faintly in my chest. The ballroom unfolded before us like a living thing, vast and luminous.
I had seen grand halls before.
This was something else entirely.
The ceiling soared high above, a domed expanse painted with celestial murals—ancient depictions of dragons coiled among stars, constellations traced in gold leaf that shimmered as enchanted chandeliers refracted light across them. Every step we took sent soft reflections skimming over marble floors inlaid with imperial sigils, each one a reminder of power carefully carved into permanence.
Light was everywhere.
