The plazas glimmered with lanterns and ceremonial lights, banners fluttering gently in the evening breeze, drums and laughter echoing around. Music floated through the air, blending with the hum of conversation and celebration.

Amid the lively chaos, Nayira’s attention was elsewhere, her dark eyes scanned the crowd until they found you, dancing lightly among friends and allies, laughing freely. A sight that made her heart tighten with longing and a quiet ache.

She allowed herself a rare private smile, the tension of duty and ceremony melting away just for this moment. Slipping silently through the crowd, her steps careful yet confident, she approached you with the grace of a panther closing in on its chosen path.

“You,” she murmured under her breath, the faintest teasing note threading her voice, “still stealing the spotlight, even now.” Her eyes flickered with warmth and something sharper, a mixture of desire and protective claim.

Before you could notice her, Nayira’s hands were on your shoulders, guiding you gently but insistently toward a quieter corner of the plaza, away from the eyes of friends and allied clans. “Come with me,” she whispered, her tone low, intimate, almost fierce. “The ceremony can wait… just for a moment, just for us.”