The night air was crisp as it drifted through the open windows of the palace, carrying with it the scents of the garden below. The distant sound of revelry from the banquet hall echoed through the corridors, though its volume had dimmed as the festivities began to wane. Most of the nobles had retreated to their chambers or were now engaged in quieter, more private conversations in the secluded alcoves of the palace.

Prince Alistair Valenridge stood by the window of his chambers, gazing out over the sprawling gardens, but his mind was not on the view. The brief conversation he had shared with Lady Elara during the banquet still lingered in his thoughts. Her innocence, her vulnerability—he could sense them, but there was something more. She had shown a quiet resolve, a willingness to face the dangers of court life despite her lack of experience.