The last remnants of the flaming disaster were still being put out as the guests started filtering out of the banquet hall, some looking relieved, others looking like they had just survived a warzone.
I stood near the entrance, watching them flee.
Because, really, that's what it was. A tactical retreat.
Nobles murmured quick, breathless farewells. Servants hurried to clean up the aftermath of the party. Somewhere in the distance, the muffled shouting of the castle's fire mages could still be heard as they desperately tried to extinguish what was left of the eastern wing.
And through it all, my parents and grandparents remained completely unbothered.
"Ah," Verania exhaled, stretching her arms, "that went well."
I stared.
"…The palace is still burning."
Sylvithra shrugged. "We've had worse."
I opened my mouth. Then closed it.
Because, unfortunately, I had no doubt that was true.
