The heavy mahogany doors of the grand hall parted with a low, echoing groan, spilling a blinding wash of golden chandelier light and a cacophony of aristocratic laughter out into the corridor.
Elian stepped into the celebration hall, walking slowly behind Isolde. He paused at a corner and let her walk toward the king.
The air in the vast chamber was thick with the scent of roasted meats, expensive perfumes, and heavy wine. High above, musicians coaxed soaring notes from their strings, but the grandeur of the room faded instantly against the sudden, violent jolt of tension that ricocheted through Elian's chest.
