A cascade of petals cultivated and enhanced by Ingram would hang from the ceiling of the throne room now arranged into more of a ballroom as a harpist was set within the corner and a set of tables were on the edges of a space left for dancing. The aromantic foods Sienna had assisted in decision as well as the flowers left in decoration upon and at the leg of each table, along with sporadic placement in garlands, had added to the aesthetic of this gothic home to appear quite welcoming as Sienna herself would look before the mirror of a vanity now gifted within her room sometime before the party as she was placing the final sprigs of baby’s breath within her hair to have a knock come to her door. Without a servant to answer it as she had requested to be alone, she would find a single rose to
