Considering it was Cecilia's sixteenth birthday, the entire world seemed determined to put on a show.
The Slatemark Empire had spared no expense, the palace practically glowing with gold and crimson banners fluttering against the night sky. The security was tight—guards stationed at every entrance, their sleek exo-suits glinting under the artificial lighting, mana-powered drones hovering just out of sight, scanning the incoming guests. A celebration, yes, but not without its precautions.
The Slatemarks weren't the only ones under scrutiny. Every noble house worth its name had sent a delegation. The Creightons, the Windwards, the Viserions, the Ashbluffs—all of them had made an appearance. Even the Namgung family from the Eastern Continent had arrived, their presence an unmistakable declaration of interest.
And me?
