The heavy doors of the throne room groaned as they opened, casting a shadow that seemed to swallow Sadiki whole. His heart raced as the guards dragged him forward, their grips unyielding on his arms.
The grand chamber stretched out before him, its high ceiling and looming walls amplifying the weight of his guilt. The flickering torches lining the room cast ominous shadows that danced across the cold stone floor.
At the far end of the room sat King Xavian, his face carved from stone, his piercing gaze like ice boring into Sadiki's very soul. Beside him stood Theron, rigid and seething, his hands clenched into fists. The crown prince's disdain was palpable, radiating from him in waves that made the air feel suffocating.
