The grand banquet hall of the Thompson estate was a spectacle of celebration.
Hundreds of candles flickered in crystal chandeliers, casting a warm, golden glow over the revelry below. The air was heavy with the rich scents of roasted meats, sweet wines, and expensive perfumes. Laughter and the clinking of glasses created a joyous din that masked any underlying tension.
Ashlyn moved through the crowd like a queen holding court. Her crimson velvet dress swirled around her ankles with every step, the gold embroidery catching the light. She paused at a table of wealthy merchants, her smile gracious and practiced.
"Is the wine to your liking, my lords?" she asked, her voice light and charming. "We opened the oldest casks from the cellar for this special occasion."
"Excellent, My Lady," a merchant replied, raising his glass in a toast. "Truly fit for a commander's table. Your hospitality is unmatched."
