The morning sun spilled gently through the wide glass windows of the Aurora Palace dining hall, painting golden lines across the marble floor. The long breakfast table gleamed with silverware, fresh bread, roasted meats, fruit platters, and steaming tea. Everyone in the Emerald family sat with graceful posture—everyone except Shellia, who kept her head lowered, eyes fixed on her plate like it held the secrets of the universe.
Across from her sat Allen—the Emperor of the Aurora Kingdom—calm, composed, and wearing that faint, unreadable expression that could make even seasoned generals shiver. His long silver hair shimmered in the light, his emerald eyes sharp yet impossibly gentle when they flickered toward Shellia.
