Eliana forces herself to hold eye contact with Prince Drake. His demeanor is intimidating as he towers over her, a shadow casting over his features, hiding any inclination on what he is thinking.

“He is most likely pondering on how to kill me,” she hisses in her mind.

There is a low murmur in the crowd of Climont soldiers, metal clanking as they return their swords to their scabbards. Eliana wonders if they have just returned from a battle.

“Who has harmed her,” ...