Two days.
That's all that remained until the Northern Highlands delegation arrived—and the palace buzzed with nervous energy.
Every corridor was filled with movement: scribes running scrolls to the council chambers, kitchen hands carrying trays of tasting samples, guards polishing their armour, and nobles making themselves conspicuously available in case any foreign eyes might land on them.
And at the centre of it all stood Evelina.
Focused. Efficient. Exhausted.
Her sleeves were rolled up, her hair tied back, a scroll clutched in one hand as she checked off items across three departments at once.
The council had trusted her to run point, maybe even trying to test her, and she refused to fail, even as some individuals had made it a deliberate effort to sabotage her.
Because of course, Selene hadn't stopped.
If anything, she'd got bolder.
