Elara's POV
A few hours later, Lena was back to her quarters to clean herself up.
I stood in front of my mirror while servants dressed me. They pulled tight the laces of my most formal gown. Deep purple silk, heavy with gold thread. The kind of dress that made it hard to breathe. Hard to move.
Perfect.
One servant placed the crown on my head. Not the light one I usually wore. The heavy one. The one my mother had worn for state occasions. It sat on my head like a weight, pressing down, making my neck ache.
Another servant pinned my hair up. Every strand in place. Perfect. Controlled.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My face was pale but calm. My eyes were dry. My expression was carefully blank.
I looked like a queen.
Not a girl who was about to watch someone she cared about be torn apart.
"Your Majesty," one servant said quietly. "It's time."
I nodded once. Stood. Straightened my spine.
Walked to the door with my head high.
