A Princess in Shadows

The halls of the Inner Sanctum were quiet, their usual air of majesty now heavy with tension. Princess Yvette walked with purpose through the marble corridors, her silken dress brushing against the pristine floors. Her expression was one of quiet determination, though her heart was heavy with doubt. The city was crumbling, the people suffering, and her father, King Armand, seemed unwilling—or unable—to act.

Reaching the grand doors to the King’s chamber, Yvette hesitated for a moment. She clenched her fists, summoning her resolve, then pushed them open. Inside, the King sat alone at a large table, a map of Lotringen spread out before him. His once-proud demeanor was now a shadow of itself. His hair, streaked with gray, was disheveled, and his regal attire seemed ill-fitting on a frame that had grown gaunt with worry.

“Father,” Yvette said softly, stepping into the room.