I am far from thrilled to be here.
As Rune hands my luggage to the guards, their lowered heads betray the pretence. Why bother?
They address me with titles like 'Your Highness' or 'Your Grace,' going out of their way to make me feel uneasy. The discomfort only intensifies as we enter the King's Hall, and the guards open the doors for us.
My eyes immediately land on the dais, where the King and Queen are seated, their attention fixed on a woman venting her grievances.
As we step inside, the entire hall turns towards us, their gazes piercing and judgmental. They greet us with bows, their heads bowed low as we pass by.
My feet stumbles, so does my heart, and I resist the urge to grasp Rune's fingers to steady myself.
The King's gaze is fixed on me—I can feel it—just as I keep my eyes on
