The room was frozen in stunned silence. The moment the name "Princess Lunethra" slipped past the lips of a trembling servant, the air thickened—almost crackling with disbelief.
Gasps escaped from the gathered attendants. Some instinctively stepped back; others just stood there, eyes wide and fixed on the hooded figure with hair too silver, too ethereal to be mistaken. Lunethra didn't shrink from their stares; she only adjusted her cloak and turned her cold gaze forward, unfazed.
Celeste exhaled slowly, dragging a palm down her face, exasperated sarcasm lacing her tone. "Well, I suppose this is the perfect way for everything to be revealed."
She turned to the guards and servants, still gawking like deer caught in a spell. "Out. Now. All of you. I have things to discuss with my cousins—" her lip curled faintly, "—one of whom I thought was dead."
