The hallway fell silent once more. All eyes shifted to Zalthor.
Yeara's expression remained graceful and controlled, her warm yet elegant demeanor— for some unknown reason, perfectly complementing Zalthor's detached, domineering aura.
Raymond, whose head had been bowed forward, forced himself not to turn and look at Yeara. The surprise in his gaze was unlike that of the elders; it was something closer to pride.
He had not expected this, and for reasons he could not quite explain, he liked it. The way she had spoken made it clear to him that no one else could fit this position better than she could.
Now he longed to look at her properly—to truly see the courageous woman the King had brought before them… but of course, he did not dare.
The things he had witnessed today at the hands of His Majesty were more than enough warning. If he so much as glanced at the Queen now and the King noticed, he was certain his punishment would be far worse than any he had received before.
