The tall windows of the Goltbred estate's largest guest room let in a lot of light. Elua stood at the threshold taking in the scene of how it had been completely transformed into an impromptu bridal salon. The usually sparse space was no more as attendants and craftspeople hurried and made the final preparations for her dress fitting.
At the center of the room stood a mannequin draped in shimmering silver. Up on the raised platform, the wedding dress caught the light beautifully. It threw the light reflections across the walls. The cultivator held her breath in her throat as she approached.
Her steps were as measured and deliberate as the saving of the sight from her perspective in an illusion before pressing it into a fragment for safekeeping. One day, she would share all of these moments she loved with Qat in private. Her mind momentarily thought of the teenager swinging her sword with her shirt taken off.
