Lea Spini surveyed the gathering. The petals scattered at her feet mirrored the crimson of her gown—a deliberate choice. Bunches of roses overflowed from the base of the throne, their fragrance heavy in the air. Each flickering candle illuminated a silent face in the crowd, their forms indistinct but undeniably present. She hadn't invited them, not exactly. They simply… appeared. Drawn to the scent, perhaps? Or something else entirely? The music had stopped hours ago, and now only the aroma of roses and decay filled the air. One figure shifted slightly, a hand reaching out toward her. A slow smile touched Lea’s lips. Tonight, she was queen. And they were hers.