The corridor beyond the council chamber was cooler, the stone walls swallowing sound until even footsteps felt intrusive.
Levan followed the aide in silence, their pace unhurried but purposeful. This wing of the palace was rarely used for audiences because it was too narrow. It was where conversations happened when one did not wish to be overheard or remembered.
The aide stopped beside a tall window overlooking the inner gardens. Only then did he turn.
"Your Highness," he said again, more softly now that the tension of the council chambers no longer present. "It has been some time."
Levan inclined his head. "It has."
His gaze flicked briefly to the man's insignia before returning to his face, recognition settling with ease. He remembered him well from the wedding months ago.
Eryndor Vaelis. Always positioned at the Queen Serenya's right hand, watchful and unyielding, eyes never straying far from Ilaria even as the vows were spoken.
"You serve the Queen well."
