Chapter 4.6: A Seat At The Table

𝟒.𝟔: A Seat at the Table

𝐓he grand hall of the West Wing was bathed in the soft glow of morning light, sunbeams filtering through colored glass panes to cast fragments of rose, gold, and sapphire across the marble floors.

Everything was aesthetic, like a dream caught in motion.

Velvet drapes the color of crushed plum framed each window, brushing against the stone walls like whispers of history.

The air was perfumed faintly with lavender oil and wood polish, a scent Elysia now recognized as distinctively 'royal'.

In the center of the room stood a long, mahogany table carved with the sigils and runes of House Aerelion—symbols so old they might as well have been carved from time itself.

Elysia paused at the threshold.

The hall, though clearly prepared for breakfast, was far too quiet. Unnaturally so. Even the clink of utensils seemed muted, absorbed into the walls.