It was a soft sweet afternoon. The kind of afternoon where the sun did not burn too hot, but spread its light gently over the world. Birds sang from the branches of the tall trees, their songs floating like little pieces of joy in the air. The wind blew softly through the garden, carrying the smell of fresh blossoms. The flowers, heavy with color, leaned into the breeze and swayed gracefully. Everything outside looked perfect, peaceful, beautiful.
But inside the palace, it was far from quiet. Servants ran back and forth. Their hands carried ribbons, golden cloth, baskets of roses, crystal lamps, and trays of polished silver. The air was full of movement and noise. The palace was already busy, because in two days there would be the grand ball. Lydia's birthday ball.
