Ahcehera was beckoned inside the royal palace's magnificent halls in the gentle morning light. I have an unusual gut feeling about why my father called me here.
The towering columns and intricate stained glass windows reflected the majesty of her lineage, but her heart was weighed with unease. What pressing matter could it be?
Her father, the king, had requested her presence with a rare urgency. Seated on his throne, the king wore an expression of quiet concern, his gaze softening as Ahcehera approached.
"Ahcehera, there is much to discuss," he began, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of apprehension.
She inclined her head respectfully, her eyes fixed on him. "What is it, Father?"
"First, I bring good news," he said with a faint smile. "Your second brother has recovered well. His health is no longer a concern."
