Prince Alaric's Private Chambers
The room was dimly lit, perfumed by the scent of burning cedar in the hearth. Heavy curtains shut out the world beyond, leaving only the quiet flicker of candlelight and the soft clink of wine being poured.
Sephrina Vale entered without ceremony, the silk of her gown trailing behind her like spilled ink. Her sharp and gleaming eyes were fixed on the prince seated leisurely by the hearth, swirling wine in his goblet.
"You summoned me," she said, voice smooth, though her mind was already with Lucien — as it always was.
Prince Alaric gestured to the chair opposite him. "Sit, Sephrina."
She did, though impatience flickered in her gaze. "I trust this is about Lucien."
A smile curled Alaric's lips. "Naturally. His birthday gathering will be the perfect opportunity for… adjustments."
Sephrina leaned forward. "What do you have in mind?"
