The Emperor and the Flame Beneath the Stars
When the queen left, so too did Soren's interest in the festivities.
He'd stayed, at first, out of courtesy, or so he told himself, watching the fireworks bloom above the amphitheater, the sky painted with molten gold and crimson. The crowd's cheers rose like waves. Caelen was there, carrying Rael, his hand wrapped protectively around his son. Ophelia leaned close, smiling at something the boy said.
And Soren, though he stood among a thousand burning torches, felt cold... In a strange way.
He did not need to ask why Eris had vanished. The answer sat before him, laughing and alive.
So when the toasts were made and the wine overflowed, he offered a faint smile, an easy excuse, that the air was too thick, that Nevareth's nights were cooler and left his men to enjoy the feast in his stead.
