The grand hall seemed to hold its breath as the figure’s words reverberated through the silence. Sienna stood frozen, her mind racing as the masked figure’s gaze locked onto hers. She could feel her pulse thudding in her ears, the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest. Every breath felt like a battle, as though the air itself had become too thick to breathe.
"I serve the First Queen," the figure’s voice echoed again, soft but chilling. "You may wear her crown, but you have not yet inherited her power."
Sienna’s heart skipped a beat. Power? Was that what he was after? Or was this something deeper, something more sinister?
Her hand instinctively tightened around the edge of her chair, nails digging into the wood, as she carefully considered her next move. The last thing she want
