Far from the lively ballroom music, a quieter and far more serious gathering continued behind thick, reinforced oak council doors.
The private royal council chamber smelled of sealing wax, aged parchment, and untouched glasses of dark ceremonial palace wine.
Family heads, high-ranking military commanders, and senior guild officials surrounded one long, polished council table in deep silence tonight.
A sprawling topographical map of the kingdom covered the table from end to end before the assembled ministers and officers.
Red ink markers identified unstable monster Gates across every vulnerable frontier region of the realm before the listening council.
Three fresh circles overlapped where the Flint southern vanguard failed to clear the dangerous anomaly in the eastern border district.
"The situation on the map is unstable, and it worsens with every passing day," a decorated military commander warned, brow deeply furrowed.
