It really was almost like old times again.
Sitting at the high table draped in golden cloth. Being served delicious food in the beautiful banquet hall that glowed with candlelight. Chatting and laughing with her childhood friends.
Her previous lethargy now gone, Celia felt lighter than she could remember feeling in a long time. The anxious knot that seemed to always sit like a weight across her frame, had also eased. She was able to eat more than she had in weeks, though she still avoided most of the meat.
Still though, a tiny voice gnawed at the back of her mind, urging vigilance and caution. She was back in Islia not just as a beloved daughter, but also as a princess who supposedly wielded at least some influence in her adopted homeland.
If she was going to have any success in negotiating with a strong, confident king, she needed to approach him from a place of strength herself.