The morning sunlight spilt into the chamber as Ilyrana paced back and forth, the letter in her hand crumpled slightly from her tight grip. The summons had come unexpectedly, delivered under the seal of the King himself, its message clear and deliberate: she was to attend a private meeting in one of the secluded wings of the castle, and she was to go alone.
Queen Loreleia sat composedly by the window, her face betraying little of her unease. Irithiel stood nearby, her sharp eyes fixed on the parchment as though it were a venomous snake.
"They've begun," Loreleia said at last, her voice cool but edged with tension. "Eroan and Altreus are moving their pieces. This... summons is no casual gesture."
"Agreed," Irithiel chimed in, her tone sharp. "It reeks of a test. They want to gauge your response. Defiance could mark you as an enemy, but blind obedience could make you seem weak. Either path is fraught with risk."
