"Step forward, Divale," the King gestured for the Princess to move forward.
Princess Divale took a deep breath before she compelled her feet to move forward and not spring out of the room from fear. That seemed like a more preferable idea at the moment.
She was feeling anxious as sweat was nearly dripping from her palms and the more she stepped into the room, the more she realized the gravity of the situation at hand.
What she was about to tell her father, the King.
She stopped right before him before she sat at the chair beside him, which was supposed to be where her mother, the Queen, usually sat.
"Father," she said as she looked down at her clasped hands.
They seemed to be more fascinating than the questioning expression on her father's face.
