"It's time for the process."
Emperor Gerald's intense voice rang out. He scanned the long table with a grave expression, then after a long pause, he lifted a glass of wine to the air and smiled.
"To the Nightshades."
At once, everyone around the table picked up their wine glasses and echoed in unison:
"To the Nightshades."
Then, Gerald calmly set his glass aside and stepped away from his seat, beginning a slow, deliberate circle around the dining table.
The atmosphere grew tense. Something was clearly brewing. Why was he hesitating? What was he about to reveal?
Marcel, seated a short distance away opposite the royal family, grinned mischievously. He knew his brother too well and could already predict what was about to happen. Gerald was about to shake the table—and hard.
Queen Athalia, however, remained composed. She sat with quiet grace, slicing a piece of turkey meat into the rich sauce, unfazed by the tension in the room. Her eyes watched everything like a seasoned hawk.
