The afternoon sun bathed the large windows of the great hall with a golden warmth that seemed deceptive; at first glance, everything was calm, laughter, and preparation... but Eliza knew that serenity was merely a curtain.
After breakfast—if one could call what she had just witnessed that—Luna had ordered the women to gather to begin preparations for the baby's welcome party.
The great hall of the east wing had been transformed into a whirlwind of ribbons, flowers, and silk fabrics. The tables were covered with rolls of lace, ivory ribbons, porcelain boxes, and jars with enchanted petals that floated in the air.
The air smelled of honey and lavender.
The music was soft, barely a breeze among the whispers.
Luna, impeccable in a pearl-colored satin dress, gave instructions with her usual elegance, the kind that turned every word into an order disguised as kindness.
