The silence in the secluded chamber of Riverdale's palace was thick, and the air had become heavy to breathe for Caesar and Andrea.
The high-arched windows, draped with heavy crimson curtains, let in only faint traces of moonlight, giving the room a solemn atmosphere.
Klaus sat on a grand chair carved from dark oak, its frame studded with gemstones that reflected dim sparks in the low light.
Andrea, the newly crowned queen, was kneeling before him, her body trembling as though her very bones had frozen.
Her long robe of royal silk, embroidered with threads of gold, trailed across the floor. Yet the elegance of her attire did not mask the sheer terror in her heart.
She dared not lift her eyes to meet his, for the calm indifference on Klaus's face carried more weight than the edge of any blade.
Beside her, Caesar, the general of Riverdale's armies, knelt as well. His posture, though still disciplined, betrayed unease.
