Aunt Maria.
Morning.
Citadel.
Critic Citadel, Critic-Ishire.
*****************
The royal family sat around the table with Liza and Salvadore's aunt who had arrived this morning. Theodore had shocked to his bone when he saw her, because if Sandra was viscious, then her sister Maria was crazy. The borderline crazy.
They all sat in the grand royal dining hall, while a hushed tension lingered in the air, it was palpable amidst the clinking of silverware and the delicate sips of tea.
Seated at the head of the ornately adorned table was the distinguished figure of the king, Salvadore, his regal countenance was veiled in a mask of stoicism as he enjoyed over the morning meal.
Beside him sat his mother, a woman of undeniable grace and poise, but she didn't have the stern gaze that mostly betrayed the weight of royal lineage in older women.