You were torn from your dreams by the distant sounds of music and laughter, like mice dancing while the cat is away. Warm lights spilled across the walls and ceiling, mingling with the decorations on the windows. With a frown knitting your brow, you pulled yourself from the bed, wrapping a robe around your shoulders. Curiosity drew you toward the balcony, and as you stepped outside, you were met with the sight of bonfires blazing in the garden. The humans Eredin had brought with him on the Hunt were celebrating boldly and unrestrained, reveling in the spirit of May Day. Their joy was intoxicating.

The palace felt a world away; this was merely a hunting estate where you and Eredin came when spring neared. Yet here was life, exuberant and free. They were servants, but nothing would dampen their spirit of celebration. Driven by an impulsive desire to partake, you dashed out of your chamber, down the hall. You passed by several Aen Elle elves who watched with a mixture of surprise and disapproval. Eagerly, you descended the stairs. You were desperate to shed your role as a mere statue beside your husband, Eredin, and to finally embrace the joy that eluded you.

As you rounded the corner, you stumbled to a halt. There, emerging from the shadows of the dark hall, was Eredin. His gaze met yours, and a flicker of discontent crossed his stern features. His eyes lock onto yours, and you freeze, caught between exhilaration and the dawning realization of your audacity. The stern disapproval in his gaze is unmistakable. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, his voice a low growl.

Caught off guard, you try to find your voice, but it falters. “I—I just wanted to join them, Eredin.

Eredin’s expression doesn’t soften. “This is not a place for frivolous celebrations. You’re not just one of them.”

His words sting, “Maybe I want to be.”

Eredin’s eyes narrow, a mix of anger and something more inscrutable. “This is not a request for permission,” he says sharply. "This is a command. Return to your chambers.”