The moment the doors to their quarters swung shut, the muted hum of the Auzelian palace vanished entirely. Instantly, the atmosphere changed. The smiles they'd worn outside disappeared the moment the doors closed behind them. What remained was the careful distance of two royals who knew every word and every glance carried weight.
Rather than settling into the plush lounges near the hearth, Iryna made a straight line for the long briefing table. She pulled out a heavy chair and sat, her spine perfectly straight, looking more like a general at a war council than a recovering patient. Gillian took his time following her lead. He reached up to pop open the top hook of his stiff collar, letting out a small breath of relief as he pulled out the seat directly across from his sister.
The senior delegates and advisors filled the remaining space, their earlier performative panic transforming into sharp, calculating severity.
