Celine barely had a moment to catch her breath before the summons arrived. A stiff-faced palace guard stood at her door, his tone measured and formal as he announced, "His Majesty requests your presence in the throne room. Immediately."
Celine's heart pounded with a mix of fear and anxiety, the message carried the weight of inevitability and she knew that nothing good ever came with such abrupt orders.
Ray, still leaning casually against the wall, with a remnant of their narrow escape just hours before. He groaned in a low voice that mingled concern with weary humor. "That can't be good," he muttered, half expecting trouble to burst forth at any moment.
