Princess Elena’s POV
The chaos shattered the moment the doors swung open. Bootsteps cut cleanly through the shouting; slow, steady, unmistakable. One by one, voices died in their throats. Even the soldiers straightened as if pulled by invisible strings. The temperature in the hall seemed to drop. Queen Gloria had appeared.
She didn’t announce herself. She didn’t need to. She walked in alone, hands tucked into the pockets of a worn tracksuit, combat boots striking the marble floor with blunt authority. Her hair was stark white, pulled tight from her face, exposing sharp bones and harder eyes. There was nothing ornamental about her, nothing regal in the way Morgan preferred to be regal. Yet the entire space bent around her presence all the same.
Compared to Morgan’s extravagant en
