The grand ballroom of the Royal Palace sparkled like the very cosmos it celebrated. Crystal chandeliers, modified with tiny enchantments, projected star-like patterns across the ceiling and walls, creating the illusion that we were standing beneath a night sky brought indoors.
I adjusted my formal attire—deep blue robes adorned with silver embroidery depicting constellations, traditional wear for the Star-Gazers' Ball. At eighty-four, I no longer cut the dashing figure I once did, but Lyra insisted I still "cleaned up nicely." The thought made me smile as I watched her across the room, deep in conversation with a group of young scholars.
"Your Grace," a young voice called. I turned to find my great-grandson, Alaric III, approaching with a smile that reminded me remarkably of my own in younger days. "The telescopes have been positioned on the eastern terrace. The alignment should be perfect tonight."
