Alen's pov
The heavy wooden door opened slowly, and a cold but powerful voice came from behind.
"Prince Kral, be sensible in the temple."
The gate was wide open. In the dark and empty hall, nine men in white robes and black masks sat around a long black stone table. The glass lamps were placed neatly on the table. Inside the transparent lampshade, the light of the candle takes on a yellowish color, which is reflected on the mask. Everything in the room was shadowy, like a gathering of ghosts.
There are many elders who are qualified to wear white robes, but only the elders who can appear at the round table are the ones who hold real power. Since the death of the last king, His Highness Kral has had little contact with these powerful elders, let alone run the country with them. I don't even know who's behind these masks.
