I turned slowly to the Queen's lady-in-waiting, my gaze steady, the weight of authority settling comfortably over my shoulders. "It has been solved," I said, my voice calm but absolute.
The lady-in-waiting bowed deeply, her posture perfect, a faint tremor in her hands betraying the tension that had accompanied the rest of the room. "Thank you, Your Highness," she said, her voice low, respectful. Relief colored her words, subtle but unmistakable, and I inclined my head in acknowledgment, allowing her that small victory.
Then my eyes swept across the rest of the room, lingering on the maids, the servants, the onlookers who had witnessed the commotion but had done nothing to intervene. Their expressions ranged from nervous curiosity to outright fear, and it settled heavily over the space.
I focused on the oldest among them, the woman with silver threads in her hair and a posture that had long ago surrendered to caution.
