Amara entered, her calm presence silencing even the most vocal dissenters as nobody had expected that the princess who remained detached from the politics of royal court would show up in the middle of a meeting.
She was dressed elegantly but simply in a solid black outfit, her appearance reflecting that she was still in mourning, her composure and gentle gaze a striking contrast to the frazzled group of officials.
What else or precisely who else caught everyone's attention was the six-foot-something tall man who was following Amara. A distance of a meter was maintained between both the people but everyone who looked at Amara for over a few seconds intently would receive a scathing glare from the man standing behind her.
And there was something unsettling about that gaze which made them shuffle in their boots somehow.
