1 January, 1372. St Ivan's Palace, Havietten
Celia was gliding down one of the corridors, stopping briefly at a window to admire the afternoon sun as it cast its rays across the landscape.
Winter could be a brutal but starkly beautiful time of the year, she mused. Today though, everything before her looked suffused in a soft, golden glow.
Shaking herself out of her daydream, she continued walking quickly, heels clicking on the stone floor. She had a busy evening ahead and was likely to be rushed off her feet. Not that she minded.
But before all that happened, she had a very important visit to make.
Celia first needed to visit her ailing husband before heading to the banquet hall, where a spectacular celebration had been planned for the night.
Everyone knew that ever since King Tobin had been moved into lavish new apartments, his queen made a point of visiting him daily without fail.
