The morning sun filtered through the layered leaves of the towering elven trees, casting dappled light across the grand courtyard of the Sylvaris estate.
Today was the day.
The bride's family manor brimmed with life. Servants bustled about, floral garlands hung from balcony rails, and the aroma of elven pastries wafted through the air.
Guests in flowing robes and noble attire had begun to arrive, each greeted with a blend of grace and cheerful celebration.
The groom's entourage had just reached the estate gates.
A hush fell over the crowd as the elegantly adorned convoy pulled in—graceful elven mounts, floating carriages, and a large Pekko at the rear.
Gloria sat tall atop Peanut, her fan held lightly in one hand.
