The royal palace grounds, once serene and adorned with blooming gardens, were now cloaked in a tension so thick it was suffocating.
The moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the sprawling landscape. Shadows danced across the cobblestone paths, distorted by the flickering flames of the blazing main palace.
The servants had managed to put out the fire, but as it made its way to the annex, the building was simply severed by the rest of the palace by the hidden stone gates that isolated the annex, ensuring that the flames would no longer spread around.
The gypsies moved like silent phantoms through the darkness, their vibrant cloaks blending into the surrounding trees as they encircled the palace.
Armed with curved blades, spears, and bows, they stationed themselves at every possible escape route. No one would leave the palace grounds alive tonight—not if they had their way.
