The transition from the quiet, suffocating tension of the King's solar back into the roaring opulence of the ballroom was jarring. As Elric and Verona emerged, they were immediately met with Calixto and Yelena.
"There you are," Yelena said, her voice a cool, measured chime. She adjusted her lace cuff, her gaze flicking to Elric with a subtle frown. "One minute you were by the gardens, the next you were being summoned. I hope your 'private audience' didn't cost the North more than we've already paid in Southern drama."
"We had a little chat with the Sun Throne," Elric said, his voice dropping into a respectful but weary tone. He didn't offer details, he knew his mother would pry them out later in a less public setting.
Calixto arched a silver-flecked eyebrow, his voice a low rumble that vibrated beneath the orchestra's melody. "The Sun Throne? Did he give you his blessing, or a headache?"
"Both, I think," Verona replied with a small, tired smile.
