The carriage carrying Queen Lira, Princess Ema, and Princess Isha rolled slowly away from the imposing encampment. None of them spoke for a long time. Their eyes remained fixed on the grand black-and-crimson pavilions shrinking in the distance, the golden banners still fluttering like symbols of unreachable power.

Queen Lira’s jaw was clenched so tightly it ached. Inside, a storm of bitter jealousy and hatred raged. That worthless girl… that dark-skinned mistake I should have smothered at birth… how did she end up with a king like him?