[Meredith].
"Alinthia." The King's tone dropped low, echoing with authority.
It silenced her instantly.
Everyone froze once more, except Draven, who remained as unbothered as a boulder in a storm. Standing there with quiet dominance, one hand loosely resting by his side, he didn't even glance at the princess anymore.
Instead, he turned his head slightly toward me, the tilt of his chin subtle but unmistakable:
He dared anyone in the room to disrespect me.
Almost immediately, something warm and electric slid down my spine.
Princess Alinthia's lips quivered with outrage, but it was the Queen who finally intervened—softly, tactfully.
"Your Majesty," she said, hoping to pull him back into diplomacy. "I'm sure this is only a misunderstanding—"
"Is it?" the King asked, turning fully to his daughter. "Alinthia, explain yourself."
The princess visibly swallowed. Her sharp, venomous glare flicked to me, but she kept her chin raised.
