Today, she looked nothing like the woman who had faced an army of undead just a day ago. Her dark hair fell loosely over her shoulders, uncombed and unkempt. Her face was frighteningly pale, and dark shadows rested beneath her swollen eyes. She looked fragile — as though the slightest wind might cause her to collapse.
Scarlett quietly stepped out after her, also dressed in plain black mourning robes. She took her place silently beside Kiara.
None of them spoke.
Together, the three of them walked into the palace, then toward the throne hall. Every servant they passed lowered their head. No one dared to offer words of comfort. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed through the long corridor.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The bronze doors of the throne hall slowly opened. A faint scent of incense drifted outward as they stepped inside.
The vast hall was filled with people, yet it felt eerily silent.
