The bells began before sunrise.
One sounded from the eastern tower, low and heavy. Another answered from the temple spire. Then the city wall gave its own slow note, and together they moved across the palace roofs until the stone seemed to wake beneath them.
Metheea opened her eyes to the sound.
The Blessing Festival had begun.
Her chamber was already full of movement.
Maids crossed the room with folded cloth, combs, ribbons, pins, and bowls of scented water. No one moved lazily. No one spoke above a careful murmur. Even the lamps had been trimmed lower than usual, their flames steady in the pale morning light.
Kalistra stood near the dressing table, supervising everything with bright eyes and barely contained excitement.
