The palace gates loomed tall and majestic, bathed in a warm golden glow as carriages rolled up one after another. The cobbled entrance, the towering marble pillars, and the elegant archways all shimmered with enchantment and nobility. This was the kind of world Luca had only seen in paintings or dreamed about in fragments.
He stood a few steps away from the entrance, edges of his black suit fluttering lightly in the evening breeze, eyes wide as they drank in every opulent detail. It wasn't just a building—it was a world far from anything he'd ever known. A world of crowns and silk, of grandeur and expectations.
And he was waiting.
Waiting for her.
People passed by—noblemen and noblewomen in glittering gowns and embroidered suits—laughing, chatting, moving past him like a river of elegance. Amidst the swirl of refinement, a familiar voice cut through.
"Well, well. You're looking good—for someone who might be attending his last party today."
Luca turned.
