Seconoria.
*************
In the grand, opulent throne room of the royal palace, the air was thick with tension. Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, their light casting a harsh glare upon the cold, marbled floor. The walls, adorned with tapestries of battles won and ancestors celebrated, seemed to close in, oppressive and unforgiving. At the far end of the room, seated upon an intricately carved throne, was King Salvadore, his visage a storm of fury and disappointment.
Freya, his daughter, stood before him, her elegant gown of sapphire blue now seeming dull and heavy with her despair. Her eyes, once bright with hope and defiance, were now shadowed with tears. The delicate beauty of her features was marred by the strain of her emotional turmoil, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched at the hem of her dress. Theodore's arrest had thrown the entire court into upheaval, but the king's reaction was the cruelest twist of all.
