The party ended with a slow unraveling of voices and music, like the tail end of a symphony tapering into silence. The golden lights that had once bathed the great hall began to dim, and servants moved through the aisles with practiced efficiency, collecting glasses and trays while whispering polite farewells.
The nobles, heirs, and warriors were already turning their attention to what came next. It wasn't just the end of a celebration—it was the quiet before a storm.
Marsai, still composed despite the exhaustion in her eyes, oversaw the disassembly with quiet pride. The execution had been perfect. Food had been divine, conversation artfully balanced between formality and curiosity, and Nioh's declaration had accomplished the impossible: unifying intrigue, fear, and anticipation in one explosive moment.
