The palace tea room was quiet and refined.
Sunlight filtered through tall windows, illuminating polished marble floors and low tables set with fine porcelain. The faint aroma of brewed herbs and flowers, and freshly baked biscuits wafted in the air.
Amira Fireborne sat calmly at the center table as royal maids attended to her. One poured tea with steady hands, another adjusted the placement of cups and trays, while a third stood ready at a respectable distance. Everything was orderly and impeccable.
The doors opened softly.
An elderly Magus entered, dressed in lavish, colorful robes that stood out against the muted elegance of the room. Rich fabrics layered over one another, embroidery catching the morning light as he moved.
Nilrem came to a stop a short distance away and offered a polite greeting.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing lightly.
The Queen regarded him calmly, then nodded her head ever so slightly.
