The hall of the Stormborne family gleamed under the light of a thousand candles. Gold chandeliers swung gently overhead, and the long table was dressed in crystal, polished silver, and food that steamed faintly in the evening air.
Yet despite all the opulence, the atmosphere carried something colder, an invisible tension that seemed to hum through the marble floor.
Aurelia stepped through the open door, her hand resting lightly on the folds of her green gown, each movement deliberate, her posture straight, her face serene. The air in the hall seemed to shift ... not cold, not hostile, but heavy with scrutiny.
For a heartbeat, the hall went still.
Every head turned toward her...their eyes tracing the green silk that clung to her frame, the short veil that softened her scarred features. She could feel the weight of their stares like hands pressing against her skin.
