*Saoirse*

The grandeur of the palace ballroom bathed in golden light left me breathless. Aine stood radiant beside her new husband, Malcolm, their hands linked, symbolizing the union of two mighty lineages. Guests swarmed around them, each adorned in finery that seemed to shimmer with its own kind of magic.

"Can you believe it?" I whispered to Rhys, who stood beside me, his presence a steady comfort. "Aine looks like she's stepped out of a storybook."

"Every bit ...