The corridors of the palace were hushed, their silence broken only by the fading echoes of departing voices and the slow retreat of footsteps. The torches along the walls burned low, their flames steady but tired, as though even fire had grown weary after the weight of so many rituals. Outside, the sky still bore the ink of night, with only a pale suggestion of dawn waiting at the horizon.

When at last I was shown toward my chamber, I felt a curious mix within me—weariness from the endless ceremonies, and yet a restless awareness that tonight was unlike any other night of my life. My hand lingered upon the carved door for a moment before I pushed it open, the wood creaking softly as though announcing my arrival.