The morning light, usually a gentle wash through the grand breakfast hall, felt sharp and unforgiving. King Jasper held court at the head of the long mahogany table, his posture regal, his gaze perpetually watchful. Queen Aria also sat beside him, her expression was a careful blend of grace and veiled concern.
However, it was the space between Damon and Adair that hummed with a palpable, unspoken tension, thicker than the rich aroma of the freshly brewed arcane coffee.
Adair, positioned directly across from Damon, was a vision of cultivated elegance in a silk gown that shimmered like pale moonlight. She leaned forward, her smile a little too bright, a touch too persistent. "Your Highness, I heard you have a full schedule today. The new trade negotiations, aren't they?" Her voice, typically a soft melody, had an underlying thread of probing curiosity.
