The throne hall was filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses, but the air felt tense despite the celebration. Banners of different households hung from the high ceilings, and servants moved between tables carrying trays of roasted meat, bread, and wine. Musicians played soft tunes from one corner, and the smell of spiced food and alcohol filled the air.
King Alaric stood at the center of the long table, raising his cup toward the crowd. "Tonight, we celebrate victory," he said, his voice echoing across the hall. "The threat of the Wanderers was met with courage and strength. My daughter, Aveloria, led our soldiers and returned victorious. We honor her bravery, the loyalty of Galen, and the protection of Theron."
The guests applauded, some loudly, while others did so half-heartedly. Aveloria sat beside her father, her shoulders straight and her face calm, though she could feel every stare directed at her.
