The grand hall of the palace stood eerily silent as Alina and Thorian returned from the beach. The echoes of their footsteps on the marble floors filled the space, and an uneasy tension lingered between them. The guards they passed bowed deeply, but Alina barely noticed. Her mind was somewhere else; on Lyra because she knew the sting of Thorian's words would still be fresh in her heart.
A steward approached them with a quick bow, his head low. “Your Majesty,” he said to Thorian, “the kings have left. They waited as long as they could.”
Thorian’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Tell the messenger to send a message to Lucien and the others. Apologize on behalf of the queen for her... absence."
The steward nodded quickly and hurried away, leaving the hall in silence once more.