The evening light streaming through the grand windows of Nocture's palace office cast a warm golden hue along the white stone walls. Long curtains swayed gently in the wind from the open window, carrying the scent of damp earth and the distant hum of the city, the market's buzz, the echo of soldiers' boots on patrol, and the rhythmic pulse of a city that never slept.
Sofia stood before a large ebony desk carved with Nocture's crest, her calm eyes scanning the stacks of documents before her. Behind her, four great white wings pulsed softly like living breath. After a long exhale, she slowly closed her eyes, and the holy light surrounding her dimmed until the wings dissolved into her back, leaving behind only a faint, serene radiance.
She turned her gaze toward the door. "Come in."
The heavy door creaked open, and three people entered almost at once.
