By the time the ball finally drew to a close, exhaustion had claimed everyone but one man.
Ethan danced.
Not once. Not twice.
He danced with every one of his wives, moving from partner to partner with effortless grace, his steps precise, fluid, and unyielding even as the night stretched deep into dawn's shadow. There was no strain in his posture, no falter in his rhythm. Stamina like that was no longer human.
And then, to the surprise and delight of the hall, he danced with his daughter.
Delphina's laughter rang brighter than the music as Ethan lifted her, spun her, and guided her through the steps with a tenderness that silenced even the most hardened ancients. In that moment, the emperor was not a ruler, not a terror of realms, not a threat to egoistic gods and rulers.
He was simply a father.
When the final note faded and the guests withdrew, one truth settled into everyone's hearts:
Tomorrow would eclipse tonight.
...
Morning came early.
