[Third Person].
The atmosphere at the Oatrun Estate changed almost overnight. Where tension once lingered in corridors, urgency now lived there instead.
Servants moved briskly through hallways carrying bolts of fabric, sealed invitations, polished silverware, and ceremonial décor. Guards rotated in stricter formations. Advisors came and went at all hours.
The estate no longer felt like a noble household. It felt like a kingdom preparing for a transfer of power.
Draven was currently in his study, reviewing guest confirmations and security arrangements with Dennis, Beta Jeffery and Oscar.
Stormveil's coronation would not just host pack leaders, but the old nobles and former Kings. Wolves that matter.
"This is not just a ceremony," Oscar reminded. "It is a declaration of dominance."
Draven nodded once in understanding.
