It was a peaceful morning in the palace, though the air buzzed with energy. Today was the long-awaited coronation of the crown prince. After weeks of preparation, the grand celebration had finally arrived. Servants moved through the halls like clockwork, hauling silks, banners, golden platters, and ornate chairs into place. The scent of roasted meats and sweet pastries drifted from the kitchens.
At the heart of the commotion stood Vexen, head of the royal maids. She barked orders crisply, her sharp tone cutting through the morning air.
"Double-check the archway ribbons! And who set this table like a tavern feast? Fix it—now!"
Though she moved with her usual grace and authority, something felt off. Her mood was darker than usual. Her voice tighter. Her glare, sharper.
Two younger maids whispered as they folded linens.
"Do you think Lady Vexen's having a bad morning?"
"Maybe… something must've happened."
