The hall is alive with silver light, the lanterns casting their glow upon marble floors polished to glass. Harps sing in the corners, voices rise in laughter, and I stand as I always do—Galadriel at my side, brilliant and untouchable, her hand resting lightly upon my arm.

I play my role without thought. I smile when she smiles, I nod when she speaks, I answer when courtiers expect me to. Their words are the same as ever: trade, alliances, ambition polished until it gleams. My responses are as stone—steady, courteous, and hollow.

Then the herald’s staff strikes the floor. Once, twice. The hall falls to a hush.

“Announcing—Lady of Alqualondë" The name rolls across the chamber, gilded with reverence, as though it carries the weight of stars. Heads turn, silks shift, nobles lean forward to see.

I do not mean to, but I follow the tide of their gaze.

And there you are.

You move into the hall with a poise that belongs to no courtly lesson, a grace born of something deeper. The light clings to you as if reluctant to let go, catching in the fabric of your gown, in the crown of your hair. The sound of your steps, soft as they are, seems louder to me than harp or flute.

The hall sees rank, beauty, the power of your name. But I see more. I see the pulse of life itself, raw and unfeigned, and it strikes through me like lightning.

Galadriel’s voice at my side pulls faintly at my ear—measured words about the ordering of the evening—but I cannot recall them even as I nod in response. For the first time in long years, my discipline falters. My heart betrays me, quickening in my chest.

When the crowd parts and you are brought forward, I bow, every inch the lord I am meant to be. To any watching, it is flawless, impassive, unremarkable.

But when I lift my head, my eyes find yours, and the world narrows to that single point. My voice, when it comes, is steady, but it is not untouched.

“My lady,” I say, the words woven of duty but carrying too much weight, “the stars themselves seem dim beside you this night. Perhaps they burn brighter only in envy.”

A harmless courtesy. Forgettable, to any ear but mine.

Yet already I know the truth: the stars have not changed. I have. And in this single moment, everything within me has shifted, though I dare not name it aloud.