While Ulrich remained behind in conversation with Duke Gravenberg, Airam, Hermione, and Esther followed Astrid through the ballroom, leaving the older nobles to their voices and careful smiles.
Astrid did not look back often. She walked as though she expected to be followed, and people made space for her without being asked. Her gold gown caught the candlelight each time she passed beneath a chandelier, the embroidery along her sleeves flashing in brief threads of amber. The younger nobles had gathered near the far side of the hall, where the music reached them softened by distance and the supervision of their elders became less immediate, though never absent. Sons and daughters of counts, marquesses, and dukes stood in neat little circles, speaking with the same rehearsed ease their parents wore, some of them too young to hide their nerves properly, others already skilled enough to smile and measure at the same time.
