The Eyes of the Nobles
Victor's eyes stayed on the mansion gates as they creaked open with a deep, stately sound that rolled into the night. The Suncrest manor loomed before him in quiet glory—its marble pillars veined with bars of gold, the gardens precisely sculpted, and looping paths shining under the soft beat of magic lamps. A gentle gust of air rushed through the wide gate, caressing his coat and with the smell of lavender blended with the light taste of newly polished stone.
Carriages rolled over the shining stone road, wheels whispering secrets. The air vibrated with subdued laughter, the rustle of silk, and the muted hum of dignified speech. Nobles flowed through the gates in a dignified stream—men in coats with pin-pointed brooches shining with gems, women in gowns that glimmered like starlight. Each step, each smile, was weighted with performance, a social waltz long rehearsed before tonight's music ever started.
