Chapter 31
Elara’s POV
The great doors of the throne hall loomed before me, carved from oak so ancient that its knots and grooves looked like veins in a giant’s hand. The sound of my heart was louder than the murmurs rising from within, where the nobles had gathered in shimmering silks and polished armor, their laughter sharp, their whispers poisonous.
I smoothed the fabric of the gown the palace seamstress had forced upon me—a deep emerald trimmed with gold thread, the kind of color that screamed royalty even when you did not wish to claim it. Against my throat, the pendant gleamed, its crest unmistakable in the torchlight.
The very proof of who I was.
Or who they would not want me to be.
I took a breath, steadying myself. My hands did not tremble, though every instinct screamed at
