(MAYA)
The great hall is transformed. Chandeliers cast a golden glow over the assembled nobility, their finery glittering in the light. I stand to the side, feeling out of place.
The ceremony itself is brief but powerful.
Griffin stands before the throne, his silver hair gleaming in the candlelight, his shoulders straight and proud as the elders reaffirm his right to rule. When the ancient crown is placed upon his head, a collective sigh passes through the assembly. He is every inch a king, powerful, commanding, born to lead.
And I am the human scientist who somehow ended up in his orbit.
The formal reception that follows is even more uncomfortable. I hover near the edges of the room, watching as nobles pay their respects to their newly crowned king. Griffin is surrounded constantly, barely visible through the press of bodies eager to curry favor.
