The music from the banquet hall was a soft, muffled melody behind the tall glass doors. The buzz of conversation and the clink of crystal had become a distant hum. Sensing the need for a true moment of quiet, Nero had caught Khione's eye, given a slight nod toward the terrace doors, and she had understood.
Without a word, they slipped away from the glittering crowd. No one noticed, or if they did, they were too polite to interrupt. They stepped through the doors and onto a wide, stone balcony that overlooked the sleeping city of Oxglen.
The night air was cool and clean, a gentle contrast to the warm, perfumed atmosphere inside. The endless clear skies of Oxglen lived up to their reputation here at night, presenting a breathtaking tapestry of stars, sharp and brilliant against the velvety black. Below, the city was a constellation of its own—strings of golden streetlights, the warm glow of windows, and the distant, moving dots of late-night traffic.
