Amara stepped out from the backseat. Since they had arrived in Monteluna, she had followed the customs and taken the back seat instead of sitting in the front passenger seat as usual. A princess not following these customs will land her bodyguard in murky waters.
''Your Highness,'' Juliette curtsied to Amara as soon as she spotted her. The woman was just as stoic as before but still, the serene aura she had carried before was thrown off by the palpable distress on her face.
The Queen was gravely ill and the King had broken down by the queen's bed in utter grief. The entire royal palace was steeped in an air of quiet despair. Even the usually bustling corridors were subdued, with attendants moving silently, their faces marked with worry.
Amara glanced at Juliette, her brows furrowing. "Where is my father?"
