The cold, heavy atmosphere in the royal palace chamber thickened with tension, the air seeming to pulse with anticipation as Lysandra barged in, her footsteps sharp and deliberate.
The moment she crossed the threshold, Drakar turned around with a slow, deliberate motion, his face twisting into a mixture of disbelief and unbridled anger.
"You..." Drakar's voice was low but full of shock and fury. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the dagger in Lysandra's hand, its gleaming edge catching the flicker of torchlight, "What is the meaning of this?? What are you doing here with that dagger in your hand?"
