The royal aides escorted Elowen and Mikhailis through the marbled corridors, their footsteps echoing softly in tandem with the steady glow of evening light spilling through narrow, arched windows. Each step resonated with a sense of conclusion—an ending to the day's swirl of courtly intrigue, diplomatic handshakes, and, of course, the unveiling of shimmering cosmetic marvels that had suddenly redefined their standing in the palace hierarchy. By now, most guards were well aware of the duo's status: not merely queen and prince-consort, but an unmistakable powerhouse whose innovations had turned heads across the realm.
"You notice how they don't even fully look at us?" Mikhailis remarked in a low voice, nodding toward a pair of palace guards positioned at a large wooden door. Both guards offered stiff bows, eyes respectfully downcast. "I swear, after that demonstration, they're even more formal than before."
