She was just an ordinary person from Earth. She had never led anyone in her life. She had never commanded a crowd, never stood in front of people whose lives depended on her words. This scene felt too heavy, too real, too strange. For a moment, she didn't know what to say, and the silence stretched.
Harold remained bent forward, still waiting. The slaves stayed motionless, their foreheads pressed to the cold stone, like they were praying to a god.
Sienna Vale took a slow breath, forcing herself to steady her voice.
"Grandpa Harold, stand up," she said firmly. "Everyone else, stand up too."
Harold hesitated, but Sienna Vale's tone left no room for refusal. The old butler straightened. One by one, the slaves also rose, though they still kept their heads lowered.
Sienna Vale stared at them for a moment, then spoke again, her voice carrying across the courtyard.
