The war is over. The crown is ours. And now, we plan a mating ceremony that will shake the very foundation of Golden Crest. Or at least, that's what Cass claims as she takes absolute control of the preparations, her energy a whirlwind of excitement and determination.
"I don't care what anyone says," she declares, pacing the grand hall of the packhouse, her voice echoing off the stone walls. "This needs to be spectacular. No, beyond spectacular—legendary."
Alma, standing by the massive oak table covered in fabric samples, rolls her eyes, a hint of amusement in her gaze. "Puppy, it's a mating ceremony, not a royal parade."