The great hall had never seen anything like it.
Music filled the air—a dozen fiddlers, drummers, and pipers playing songs old and new, their melodies weaving together in a tapestry of sound. The tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, fresh bread, cheeses from the eastern provinces, and delicacies from every corner of the kingdom.
Seren stood at the edge of the dance floor, the crown still heavy on her head, her feet ached. Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and her heart was so full it might burst. She had never imagined this moment—not in her wildest dreams as a servant, not in her most hopeful moments as queen.
"Your Majesty."
She turned. A young human woman stood before her, her face flushed, her hands twisting in her apron. She was a servant—Seren recognized the uniform, the nervous posture, the way she kept her eyes down, the way she seemed to be trying to make herself smaller.
"What's your name?" Seren asked.
"Eva. I work in the kitchens. I've been here for years."
