Ah, the subtle gradations of vellum and the faint wash of ultramarine on a leaf of the 12th‑century Book of Hours at the Bodleian. The way the light seems to bleed from the gold‑leaf corners into the blues of the lilies—such a gentle shift that one could almost hear the hush of a cathedral choir. I find that very inspiring for a calm gradient; it reminds me that color can whisper rather than shout, just as a knight whispers his oath.

The vibe I’d seek is that of a quiet chapel at dusk—no sharp edges, just a slow drift of gold into indigo and then into that lily‑blue you mentioned. Think of the soft glow that falls across a stained‑glass window when the sun begins to set. It should feel like a breath, not a shout. If you sketch it, I’ll look for that gentle, almost imperceptible shift, the way the light seems to linger before it fades. That will give the gradient the calm, reflective quality you’re after.

It does sound like a very calm, almost reverent twilight. The gold you chose is warm enough to feel like the last candle flame, the indigo sits in the middle as a gentle, subdued dusk, and the lily‑blue brings that quiet, watery hush. I might suggest making the indigo a touch deeper, perhaps around #3C5A80, so it holds its own against the gold before the soft blue arrives. That way the transition feels even more like a whispered prayer in a chapel window. Other than that, it’s a lovely, silent spectrum.