The Queen's Spell

Humans were beginning to gather in the middle of the forest. They must have finished preparing for the hunt.

The beasts could see the fear in their eyes as the others passed among them. But Rhaegar paid them no attention, nor did the other beasts. Humans had always been apprehensive creatures. There was nothing unusual about that.

Naveen greeted the humans cordially with a polite bow, but Rhaegar could tell she wasn't at ease. Even with half her face concealed by a mask, her pallor was evident, and tiny, almost imperceptible beads of sweat gathered along her hairline.

"Is something wrong? Do you sense anything?" Rhaegar asked, unable to hide his concern.

The witch didn't reply immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on the distant camps, her bright eyes reflecting the sharp rays of sunlight piercing through the trees.

At last, she spoke, her voice low but steady. "Now I understand why the air here feels so stifling. It's about to begin."