The chandeliers glittered like a challenge overhead.
Gold filigree, crystal stems, and floors so polished the Empire could've seen its own ego reflected in the marble, Lucius and Mia's engagement party was many things, but modest wasn't one of them.
Lucas stood near the edge of the main ballroom, champagne in hand, Trevor at his side. Both were dressed in midnight tones with subtle gold accents. Enough embroidery to remind the room that the Grand Dukes of Palatine had returned, fully and unmistakably present.
Technically, Lucas's title was still "Grand Duchess" in most official documents, a leftover from archaic registries and the Empire's inability to update itself faster than a glacier, but no one dared call him that to his face anymore. Not unless they wanted a lawsuit or a lifetime of bureaucratic delays.
"Another rose crest over there," Trevor muttered, lifting his glass without sipping. "Third tonight. Betting pool says they'll try to propose a trade deal before dessert."
