The grand halls of the throne room came alive that morning, courtiers in their richly adorned robes clustered in groups, whispering among themselves . Nobles, clad in their finest but still bearing the subtle marks of recent campaigns, a sight that was purposefull kept, stood in solemn clusters awaiting for the princess to start the ceremony.They held their head high, with their recent victory over the Herculains being the crown they put atop their head
At the far end of the hall, the High Priest, stood near the dais, while his servants kept swinging the ball, burning the incense.
High Priest Oren, was a venerable figure with a long, silvered beard and sharp.. Though his expression remained calm, the undercurrent of his thoughts told a different story. His gaze occasionally flicked toward Alpheo, the Prince Consort, with a subtle tinge of frustration.
