"You really had us worried there, Your Highness."
Florian heard Drizelous's voice behind him, calm but edged with relief, as careful hands worked through his hair.
Florian's gaze, however, was locked on the mirror in front of him—on the pale reflection staring back.
His own face looked hollow, shadowed beneath the eyes, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to him like smoke.
"To think you'd get a nightmare just hours before your ball," Drizelous added, his fingers moving with practiced ease, taming his unruly strands into neat order.
"Are you sure you're okay, Your Highness?" Cashew asked softly from the side.
He was perched close, Azure nestled in his arms, the little dragon's eyes glimmering with worry as it tilted its head.
Florian forced himself to nod, though his smile came slow and brittle.
