The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the Imperial Palace, casting soft light on the polished floors and ornate tapestries.
Viana stood in her private chamber, her fingers resting on the edge of a carved wooden table as she considered the day's tasks.
Sina had just finished preparing rooms for Arden, Kaley, Rayne, and Eryndor—quiet corners of the palace reserved for those who would visit rarely but deserved their own space.
"They won't be here often," Viana said softly, "but they need a place to come back to. A home within these walls, no matter how far their paths take them."
Sina nodded, placing the keys gently on the table. The gesture felt important—an unspoken promise of belonging.
Later that day, Viana prepared herself for a different kind of journey. She dressed in simple, dark clothes—hooded cloak pulled low over her face, boots soft against the stone floor.
