Chapter 102:

The Grand Hall is alive with the hum of voices, the clinking of silverware against fine porcelain, and the rich, earthy scent of roasted meats and spiced wine.

Candles flicker in their golden sconces, casting a warm glow over the long banquet tables draped in deep emerald cloth.

The air carries a celebratory charge, thick with the lingering energy of the King's announcement.

I stand beside Caspian, my hand loosely clasped in his. His presence is a steadying force against the waves of Lycans approaching us.

Each one bows their head in respect before addressing him first.

"Your Highness."

Then, their gaze shifts to me, hesitant at first, but there's no hostility now—only submission.

"Princess Delilah," they say, one by one, the title still foreign to my ears.

A few of them murmur apologies, their voices laced with guilt.

"We misjudged you."

"We will stand by you as we do our Prince."