The Royal Palace made the auction house look like a provincial market.
Dominic stepped out of the carriage into a courtyard of white stone and silver filigree, the palace rising before him in tier upon tier of impossible architecture, spires that caught the moonlight and scattered it, floating lanterns that drifted on invisible currents, archways carved with the history of an empire that had stood for a thousand years. Guards in ceremonial armor flanked the entrance, their halberds inlaid with gold, their expressions as blank as the marble beneath their feet.
Claire was waiting at the base of the steps. She'd changed from her auction house livery into a gown of deep grey, professional but elegant, and she fell into step beside Dominic without preamble.
"The receiving line will announce you. Titles matter here. So use them."
"What titles?"
