HER DAUGHTER'S REJECTED MATE
LADY ILVEN: (steady, unwavering) “You’ve become the storm’s eye. All paths lead to you.”
[A gust stirs the silver myrtle leaves, scattering faint light like sparks. The GUARD by the wall nods once—a silent signal unnoticed by the two women.
The Blade and the Flame
[Inside the dim Queen’s library, rows of ancient tomes cast long shadows. CERES reads an old, leather-bound volume by flickering candlelight, the air thick with knowledge and danger. LADY ILVEN paces near the window, restless, eyes flicking toward the courtyard.
CERES: (turning a fragile page, voice soft but curious) “This ink... it’s mixed with ash. Not just pigment—something more.”
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