*The Empress’s brow furrowed. The die was cast. The gamble in motion. Her move, bolder than any charge against the enemy in battle, more daring that first saying the Immortal Words, was proceeding and nothing she could do would stop it now. Yet, despite the risk it posed to-

-her, the Empire, even the world itself, that was not was what consumed her now. Spread out before Dawn; an imposing legion bearing down upon her, were color swatches, flowers, napkins, cutlery, tablecloths, and cake samples. Dawn Fluorspar, chosen of the Stormfather, has forged-

-an Empire from blood and sweat and fire and death. Yet now ... in the quite antechamber of her palace, she faced an even greater foe. Wedding planning.*