Twilight descended over the Lionhart Estate as dignitaries and nobles from across the continent arrived in succession. The grand carriages of the Seven Monarchies lined the ceremonial pathway, each bearing elaborate insignia that proclaimed their authority. Imperial guards in formal attire flanked the entrance to the grand ballroom, their expressions carved from stone as they assessed each arrival with practiced scrutiny.
From the preparation chamber's window, Alex observed the proceedings with calculated detachment. The Imperial Tailor had completed his work—ceremonial attire now adorned Alex's frame with a precision that spoke of generations of refinement. Layers of Lionhart blue complemented by silver embroidery that caught the last rays of fading sunlight, subtly enhancing his presence without relying on obvious affectation.
