The Valsheer guest wing was quieter than the rest of the palace, insulated by thick stone walls and heavy velvet curtains that muted sound and light alike. Valerie Valsheer stood before a tall mirror, slowly unpinning her hair. Each jeweled pin landed on the vanity with a sharp, deliberate click.
Her reflection stared back, beautiful, composed, and furious.
"So," she said at last, breaking the silence, "it's true."
Lady Valsheer sat near the fire, her posture elegant even in private, hands folded over her lap. Age had refined her beauty, not dulled it. Her eyes, sharp, calculating...lifted calmly to her daughter.
"The announcement came from within the inner court," Lady Valsheer replied. "Sebastian has declared his intention to ascend the throne."
Valerie's fingers tightened around a pin.
"And a bride," she added bitterly. "He intends to take a bride."
Lady Valsheer studied her daughter carefully before speaking. "You sound surprised."
