The following morning, the Thorne estate lay quiet beneath the pale light of dawn. Smoke still rose faintly from the cracked stones, and the scent of ash lingered in the cold air. The soldiers moved slowly, exhausted yet determined to restore order to the once-proud mansion.
Two carriages stopped before the main gate — black and silver, their doors marked with the imperial crest of Valor. From the first stepped Seraphina of Valor, her pale pink hair flowing freely, tied loosely with a single dark ribbon. Her gaze swept across the courtyard with composed precision, eyes a striking shade between blue and silver that seemed to reflect every scar of the battle. Even surrounded by ruin, her presence brought a quiet gravity.
