Piece of fabric

"Is there a reason why Her Highness has demanded your presence?" one of the guards asked, eyebrow raised, as he and his partner exchanged glances filled with skepticism. They stood resolutely by the door of the chamber, arms crossed and posture unyielding, while Oliver faced them, hoping to convey a sense of urgency.

As the tension thickened in the air, Layla emerged from the shadowy corridor. With a graceful yet commanding stride, she approached the door and swept it open. A piercing, dark look flashed across her eyes, compelling the guards to bow their heads in deference. Hesitantly, they stepped aside, granting Oliver passage into the chamber.

"Ensure that no one enters," Layla instructed sharply, her voice imbued with authority. The guards nodded obediently, reshaping themselves into statues of vigilance, standing tall with unwavering resolve.