I couldn't help but mutter under my breath as we walked through the endless palace corridors, "All this ceremony for a simple meeting seems a bit excessive." The words escaped before I could catch them, echoing softly against the ancient stone walls. The sound of our footsteps mingled with the gentle rustling of the maids' dresses ahead of us, creating an oddly musical rhythm that only emphasised the palace's overwhelming emptiness.
One of the maids – I'd started calling her Silverthought in my head, thanks to her striking silver hair and the way she carried herself like someone who carefully weighed every word – glanced back at me. Her eyes held a hint of amusement, though her voice remained professionally neutral. "His Majesty prefers things done properly," she said, in a tone that somehow managed to be both gentle and absolutely final.