The next day, at first light.
Outside the Court of Silence, the moss on the stone bridge looked exceptionally verdant in the damp early April air. The carriage stopped at the head of the bridge. Diana did not allow the coachman to proceed further—it was a basic show of respect for His Highness the Prince.
She stepped down from the carriage, wearing a long, gold-and-white gown. The style was dignified and elegant, with a high collar and fitted cuffs embroidered with intricate, subtle patterns in silver thread—the crest of the Dawn Territory. She had barely slept the previous night, her mind endlessly rehearsing the day's meeting and picturing Lilia's teasing smile.
She smoothed the front of her gown, her movements somewhat stiff.
Velin approached from behind her, his gait steady. He wore a simple, dark gray coat today, free of any superfluous ornamentation, which gave him a serious and meticulous air.
"Let's go," he said.
