On the day of the engagement, the Valois estate blazed with soft golden light that night, the vast halls humming with activity as servants darted back and forth, carrying trays laden with polished crystal and aged wine. The scent of roasted venison and spiced blood herbs hung thick in the air, blending with the faint musk of wax and old wood.
Elara walked through the corridor, her pale silver gown brushing softly against the marble floor. She had not been allowed to leave home since this decision was made. It was as if they were afraid she would run away. Where could she run to?
Inside the grand dining hall, the Vaughn family had already arrived.
Lord Vaughn, a burly man with iron-gray hair stood near the carved oak table speaking with Oliver Valois. His wife, Lady Vaughn, sat gracefully nearby, her expression serene. And beside her, Alec Vaughn stood.
