The royal court assembled that morning beneath an air of unbearable tension.
The Grand Hall, once alive with murmurs and quiet conversations before each session, had fallen into complete silence. Nobles stood in orderly rows, ministers occupied their assigned places, and commanders of the Royal Guard remained as still as statues.
No one whispered. No one dared exchange glances.
Every person present maintained a rigid posture, their eyes fixed upon the towering throne at the far end of the hall.
The massive doors creaked open. All heads lowered at once.
The Old Queen entered with slow, dignified steps, her regal bearing commanding the respect of every soul within the chamber. Without uttering a word, she ascended the marble steps and settled upon the throne.
Only after she had taken her seat did the guards strike the butts of their spears against the floor.
The sound echoed throughout the hall twice. Then, the doors opened again.
Queen Maye entered in chains.
