Following Ulrich's greeting, with the three witch sisters kneeling behind him, a long pause fell over the hall.
No one moved.
The nobles standing nearest the throne held themselves stiffly, their faces arranged into careful neutrality that fooled no one. Curiosity sat too plainly in their eyes. So did unease. They had all understood at once what this moment meant. The Queen had formally accepted the adoption two years ago, yes, but that had been paper, title, and law. This was different. Bringing those same witches into the heart of the court, into the coming-of-age celebration of the royal princess, before the eyes of the entire high nobility, was another matter entirely.
Even for Ulrich, it was bold.
Or reckless.
The room waited to learn which one it would be.
Then, at last, Kaliantha spoke.
"Lord Rubenhart. Toward the end, I had begun to wonder whether you would truly come."
