The soft hum of murmured conversation filled the grand hall as nobles gathered in small clusters, their laughter and whispers mingling like smoke in the air. Chandeliers cast a warm glow over polished floors and gilded mirrors, but beneath the surface, tension lingered. Eleanor could feel it, an almost tangible presence slithering through the room.
She stood near the edge of the gathering, her fingers absently tracing the stem of her goblet. Though the wine inside gleamed like liquid rubies, she hadn't taken more than a sip. Her gaze drifted toward Adrian, who stood at the center of a knot of nobles. His posture was regal, his expression unreadable as he exchanged words with Duke Marlow, a figure Eleanor had come to regard with increasing unease.
