The sun was barely past its highest point, sending slanting golden beams through the tall windows of the banquet hall. Elysia stood at the center of it all, arms folded, surveying the chaos.
Two days. In just two days, Kaelith would celebrate her very first birthday, and already it felt as though the castle itself buzzed with anticipation.
It was hard to believe how quickly the year had flown—months tumbling past in a wild, joyful blur of sleepless nights, first steps, first words, endless laughter and just as many disasters.
Elysia smiled at the memory of Kaelith's triumphant "Mama!"—the way her daughter had grinned, all dimples and pride, as if she'd conquered the world.
Now, the hall had been transformed. The old, cold stone seemed to glow beneath swaths of silk and velvet.
Tapestries shimmered with delicate embroidery: dragons, phoenixes, scenes of fire and starlight, chosen by Malvoria herself.
