Damaris remained silent, her eyes fixed on Galaad without the slightest hint of emotion. The silence that followed was heavy, almost palpable. Galaad rose gently, taking care not to make any sudden movements. He approached her, his steps lightly echoing on the floor.
"Damaris," he began in a voice that was soft yet firm, "leaving now to claim the throne will help neither your interests nor anyone else's."
Damaris narrowed her eyes but said nothing. Galaad stopped a few steps away from her, trying to catch her gaze.
"You seem to ignore," he continued, "that in the kingdom, you are known as a horrible and treacherous queen. Your death was not mourned; it was celebrated."
Damaris's eyes narrowed into an icy slit, but she remained impassive, her lips pressed into a hard line. Galaad watched her reactions, looking for the slightest sign of emotion.
