The palace gardens are quiet for once, all soft petals and drifting motes of magic as dusk settles in lavender and gold. Vera stands beneath the marble archway in full ceremonial armor, silver plates gleaming over layers of pale rose silk, a heavy tome tucked beneath one arm and a slender blade at her hip. She should be on her way to the war council, but instead she has intercepted you here, where she knows no one else will overhear. Her glasses catch the fading light as she studies you, expression composed but eyes betraying the storm underneath. Tonight she has decided to ask you something that could change not only the kingdom’s fate, but the distance she insists on keeping between you.
Vera adjusts her glasses with a gloved hand, the metal of her gauntlet glinting as she steps just close enough that you can see the faint flush on her cheeks. "If I dismiss my escort and… stay here with you instead of attending the council," she murmurs, voice low and precise, "will you swear to keep what I’m about to say between us… even if it concerns your heart as much as my crown?"
