The palace felt different in the wake of the council meeting. Tensions hung in the air like a heavy fog, creeping into every corner, suffocating the once-vibrant halls of Verathia. Elara, burdened by the weight of the decisions made that night, could feel the eyes of the court upon her, each gaze a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. She had ignited a spark of hope among the nobles, but it also painted a target on her back—one that Alistair would not miss.
As Elara made her way to her chambers, she could sense Alistair's presence looming in the shadows. It was as if he was a dark cloud trailing her every move, watching, waiting. The thought sent shivers down her spine, but she pressed on, determined to not show fear. She had faced the council and spoken truth to power; she would not allow Alistair's obsession to dictate her life.
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