Five hundred people stood silently in the magnificent great hall of the ancient castle. Beams of sunlight were falling through the tall windows, making the air appear bright and effervescent.
There was no sign left of the terrible bloodshed that had happened in this hall just a few weeks ago. The bodies were dragged away, the blood washed off the marble floors.
But the memory of it remained.
On the steps leading to a beautiful throne of white marble sat a young woman with silver hair. Her ivory face was distant, and her clear grey eyes were calm and heavy. Hundreds of people were looking at her, waiting quietly for their lady to speak.
Finally, Changing Star sighed. A moment later, her voice resounded in the throne room, reaching far and wide:
