(Ominous POINT OF VIEW)
The King was finishing getting ready for the party when Isadora burst into the room. "Sorry to barge in, Sire, but you should know there's been a disturbance at the party," she said, urgency clear in her tone.
The King's brow furrowed. "What happened?" The voice was calm, but a spark of anger flickered in the King's eyes.
Isadora quickly recounted the incident, describing how two parents, drunk and belligerent, had insulted Zyria and Caspian. The King's expression darkened with each word. How dare anyone insult Zyria, especially at her son's celebration?
Without a word, the King strode out of the room, the long cape trailing behind like a shadow. Every step was measured, filled with purpose, as the King made their way down the palace's ornate corridors, thoughts consumed with protecting Zyria and her son.
