Nights Later.
Seconoria.
************
The grand hall was filled with the clamor of courtiers and nobles, their hushed whispers and muted conversations creating a low hum of anticipation. The torches lining the walls cast flickering shadows, lending an air of solemnity to the gathering. At the head of the room, the king sat upon his ornate throne, his face a mask of stern resolve.
Princess Freya stood to his right, her posture straight and regal, though her heart raced with trepidation. She wore a ceremonial dress of deep crimson, the color of blood and power, a stark contrast to the delicate golden crown resting atop her raven hair. Her eyes, sharp and intelligent, scanned the room, noting the curious and expectant gazes of the assembled nobility.
