The ballroom of the Manhattan Royal Hotel glittered as if the city itself had been invited inside.
The crowd had come for blood, thunder, and spectacle. By sunset, the old rodeo arena on the edge of Dallas
The king had not planned to return to his chamber that early. The night was still young by palace standards—music
The October wind cut sharp down Fifth Avenue, carrying with it the smell of roasted chestnuts, wet asphalt
The kingdom of Veladrin had not seen a winter so cruel in living memory. Snow piled in drifts against
The Whitmore Children’s Foundation Gala was the crown jewel of Manhattan’s autumn social calendar.
The great hall of Aldermere Castle blazed with a thousand candles that night, their golden light dancing
The kingdom of Veyrand had not known a night so still in forty years. In the great castle of Hollowcrest
For as long as anyone in the village could remember, the old stone house on the hill had stood empty.
The Whitmore mansion blazed with light that November evening, every window throwing golden squares onto