The Time: 11:48 PM, Silvarion Thalor Royal Chamber
The royal bedchamber felt like a private world detached from the rest of the castle. Only the silence of the moonless courtyard seeped through the balcony doors, carrying the faint rustle of ivy leaves that shivered in an occasional night breeze. Pale beams from the hovering crystal projector painted everything in ghost-blue: the carved wardrobe, the harp in the corner, even the silverwork on Elowen's discarded crown. The crown itself rested on a side table as if it, too, had chosen to watch the show.
