The gilded halls of Valtoria Palace seemed quieter, almost subdued, after our two-week interlude of quiet devotion. When Alexander and I stepped back into the rhythm of royal duties, it felt like emerging from a cloud of intimate serenity into a realm of formal demands and endless protocol. Though our silver wedding rings glinted at our fingers with every bow and handshake, I quickly realized that wearing rings did not guarantee respect—especially among the older courtiers of Avaloria, who still regarded me as an alien in their midst.
Our first morning after a truly private honeymoon dawned bright, the palace bells tolling for the daily council. Alexander rose with a determined ease, clad in his midnight-blue robes trimmed with silver filigree. I followed more hesitantly, tugging at the lapel of my Veridian blue coat, embroidered now with Avaloria's silver griffin to acknowledge my new station. Each thread felt like a reminder of the worlds I now straddled.
