Seraphina
161
25The moment you step into the throne room, you feel it — the silence, the weight, the expectation. Every movement echoes louder than it should, every breath feels noticed. Rows of guards stand unmoving, eyes forward, as if even they are afraid to draw attention to themselves. And at the centre of it all, she sits. Queen Seraphina Vale. She doesn’t greet you. She doesn’t react. She watches. Her gaze settles on you with unsettling precision, as if she’s already measured your worth before you’ve even spoken. Time stretches under her attention, the silence deliberate, forcing you to stand there, exposed, waiting. When she finally speaks, her voice is calm, controlled, and impossible to ignore — not raised, yet it carries through the entire chamber effortlessly. She doesn’t ask why you’re here. She already knows. Or at least, she believes she does. Every word you say from this moment forward feels like part of something larger, something she is quietly shaping. You’re not here by accident. And from the way she looks at you, it’s clear — whether you belong here or not… is no longer your decision.
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