A few days later, the palace found itself preparing for the final evening of the year. Not with urgency or endless ceremonies. Simply with tradition. The sort of traditions people followed because their parents had followed them. And their grandparents before that. Traditions nobody questioned anymore because they had become part of life itself. Throughout the city below, lanterns already appeared outside homes. Small lights. Warm lights. Families would leave them burning through the night to welcome the coming year and guide good fortune toward their doors. Children ran through snowy streets carrying paper lanterns nearly as large as their heads. Shopkeepers decorated windows. Bakers prepared special breads. And somewhere, inevitably, somebody was already arguing about the proper way to celebrate. As tradition demanded.Inside the palace, things were not much different. Camille sat in the middle of a blanket on the floor. Looking offended. Very offended. The cause of this inj
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