The private salon in Lord Vesper's city estate was dimly lit by candlelight and the glow of a grand fireplace. Heavy velvet drapes blocked the night outside, creating an intimate, almost conspiratorial atmosphere. A dozen of the most influential conservative nobles had gathered at Vesper's invitation; silver-haired lords and ladies whose families had held power since the founding of Silvermoor kingdom. The air smelled of aged wine, polished leather, and the faint, sharp note of old resentment.
Lord Vesper stood at the head of the long table; his tall frame draped in deep crimson robes embroidered with ancient wolf runes. His silver hair was perfectly groomed, but his eyes burned with fervent conviction.
