Freya
My heart thunders in my chest as we leave the grand hall, the heavy wooden doors slamming shut behind us like the closing of a mysterious chapter. Bell, Arvid, and I tumble into a dimly lit antechamber where the air practically crackles with tension.
“Well,” Arvid finally says, running his fingers through his unruly hair, “that went... interestingly.” His tone is equal parts amused and incredulous.
Bell leans casually against the wall, arms folded with a wry smirk. “That’s one way to put it,” he quips. “Your grandmother sure knows how to spin a story.”
I can’t help but giggle, recalling Lisa’s riotously candid testimony. “She really does. I swear, for a moment I pictured Reynaldo practically toppling out of his chair when she brought up your tail, Bell.”
“Don’t remind me,” Bell
