It was sunset.
The sky above Svetlana looked like it had been painted with fire. Shades of deep orange, soft purple, and fading gold melted into one another. The cold air of winter carried a sharp stillness, yet the entire city buzzed with life. Every noble house lit up like a stage, every maid and tailor working twice as fast. You could hear the carriages rolling across the cobbled roads, the chatter of noblewomen deciding what to wear, the clinking of wine glasses as servants rushed to set tables. But none of it compared to what was about to happen that night.
This wasn't just any ball. This was the ball. A scandal of the highest order.
