On the terrace at Emeralds,
A gust swept in, scattering rose petals into the air like confetti. A candle stand clattered down, followed by the dull crash of a glass centerpiece tipping over and smashing to the floor.
Aveline flinched, her eyes wide. She had completely forgotten the season when planning.
Just seconds ago, she had been admiring the terrace come to life, where polished crystal met flickering candlelight, and the city skyline painted a regal backdrop. She had even imagined bringing Alaric there someday, showing him what she had built with her own hands, from nothing.
But now…
Her eyes involuntarily brushed over the staff who had worked so hard. They looked equally stunned.
Panic slammed into her chest. Hot, sharp, like a slap. Her breath caught, and for a moment, it almost won. But then she closed her eyes and told herself, "No need to panic, Aveline. Not now."
