In the desolate courtyard, bathed in the pale light of the moon, Ava stood resplendent in her crimson robe. The air was heavy with an eerie stillness, adding to the aura of anticipation that hung in the air. Clara walked in and beside her was her mother with a look of worry etched on her face but that look wasn't enough to convince Clara not to proceed with this ritual.
Clara was dressed in a flowing white gown as she cautiously entered the courtyard, her steps hesitant but her expression was tinged with determination.
Ava turned to face Clara, her eyes gleaming with a mix of revolve and encouragement. "To marry King Liam," she said, her voice laced with a solemn authority, "you must undergo this ritual..."
Clara took a deep breath, as she clenched her trembling hands to conceal her nervousness. She nodded silently. She took a step forward and her arm was suddenly grabbed. It was her mother holding her arm. "If you feel any discomfort you stop, okay?"