As Gray strode down the long, dimly lit hallway, the weight of his thoughts pressed down on him like a heavy cloak. His footsteps echoed against the stone walls, but his mind was far too distracted to notice the grandeur of the castle around him. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in his chest, a tight knot of anxiety growing with each step.
"Crap... Crap, crap, crap!" he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening in panic as the realization of his situation hit him full force. He had sparred with the King. The King. And not just any king—King Almiro, a man with a reputation for strength and pride. And what had Gray done? He'd gotten himself defeated, right in front of him. Gray's hands shot up to his head, fingers digging into his hair as if he could somehow massage the panic away.