The grand gates of Zephyros opened slowly, the sound of creaking iron echoing through the air as Queen Elena's carriage approached.
The streets leading to the palace were lined with curious onlookers, murmuring in excitement and disbelief.
Whispers filled the air, could it truly be her?
The queen who had been as good as lost to the Nyrax Syndrome? The sight of her vibrant, smiling face through the carriage window seemed like a miracle.
The royal courtyard was abuzz with anticipation.
King Reagan stood at the forefront, his tall, imposing figure as regal as ever, but his usual stoic demeanor was cracked with barely contained emotion. Beside him stood members of the court, their faces a mixture of awe and skepticism.
The carriage came to a halt, and all eyes turned toward it as the royal footman opened the door.
