The grand halls of Silvarion Thalor's royal castle echoed faintly with Elowen's soft footsteps, a rhythmic melody against the backdrop of an otherwise serene morning. The sunlight cascaded through the intricately designed stained glass windows, scattering vibrant hues of red, gold, and blue onto the polished marble floor. Each step she took reverberated with a subtle authority, yet her heart felt heavy with an inexplicable restlessness—the kind that had taken root since Mikhailis, her beloved prince consort, had embarked on his latest venture. The grandeur of the castle, usually a source of pride, now seemed hollow, as though its very essence mirrored her solitude. Her duties as queen persisted, demanding her focus, but even those felt remarkably lighter these days, almost too light for comfort, courtesy of the impeccable efficiency of Rodion, the AI assistant that had redefined her role.