The Celestian castle's banquet hall was a masterpiece of blue and silver, every inch glittering like it had been carved out of a cloud. The ceilings soared high overhead, painted with constellations and swirling galaxies.
The windows caught the afternoon sun, scattering flecks of light across the polished marble floors and onto the long, pale table set for their small but royal party.
Elysia had never quite gotten used to the Celestian way of dining—quiet, measured, everything arranged in perfect symmetry.
The staff seemed to glide silently, their faces always serene, hands so steady that not a single drop of soup ever sloshed from a bowl.
Compared to the joyous, messy chaos of meals in the demon castle, it felt like eating in a temple.
But Kaelith, at a grand total of one year old, had not received the message that she was meant to be quiet and dignified.
