The tension in the room, already thick as stone, seemed to solidify as the King stood from his throne. His heavy steps echoed through the silent hall, each one a deliberate reminder of his authority and power. His face, usually masked with regal composure, now twisted into a serious and unforgiving expression. The Queen, equally composed but no less intimidating, rose from her seat and walked beside him, her cold gaze fixed on the Princess.
The Princess could feel her heartbeat in her throat, each beat faster than the last, her breath catching in shallow gasps. Her legs trembled beneath her gown, threatening to buckle under the weight of fear that gripped her. Her wide eyes darted between her father and mother, both closing in on her with a grim purpose. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but her mouth was dry, her tongue like sandpaper. Her entire body shook, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't calm the storm inside her.
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