It was today.
The day the ship would move.
A couple of days had passed since the successful submersion and inspection, and now, the ship was ready for her first proper run on water. Not yet to open seas, not a full expedition—but enough to see how she breathed under wind, how she obeyed the rudder, and whether she glided or groaned at the strain.
Nervousness clung to the docks like morning fog.
Everyone was here.
Even the quiet ones who usually kept their heads down during the hustle of labor were now pacing, fidgeting, glancing at the entrance tunnels every few seconds. Word had spread like wildfire: Emperor Ares and Empress Adamantia were coming.
Soon.
Their presence was a big deal—more than big. Monumental, really. Not even the old failed ships had been granted royal attention. No highborn eyes had ever watched the laborers hammer their dreams together and shove them out to the water. So this wasn't just a test anymore.
This was spectacle. And judgment.
