From the outside, the palace looked like something pulled from a myth, all polished stone and banners fluttering in impossible synchrony, the imperial crest catching the sunlight just so, refracting etherlight in gold halos above the outer gates.
Crowds had gathered early. Even the common square beyond the fourth district was packed elbow to elbow, eyes tilted toward the massive enchanted banners floating overhead, each one shimmering faintly with projected images from the grand hall.
And when the double doors opened and Gabriel stepped through, dressed in a robe that looked like moonlight woven into strategy, the silence broke in collective awe. Disbelief. A few tears, too.
"Is that the mark?" someone whispered.
"That embroidery... they said Gloria designed it herself."
"I didn't think they'd actually show it."
"The press didn't do him justice; he looks like an angel."
