Selene’s heels clicked sharply against the polished stone as they walked the seemingly endless corridor. Elysia trailed a few steps behind, her pace unhurried, eyes sweeping over the cold gray walls lit by sparse sconces. Every step echoed, making the silence between them heavier.
Finally, Selene stopped before a sturdy wooden door carved with northern sigils. Without a word, she pushed it open.
The room inside was… modest. Four walls dressed in simple tapestries, a bed with plain linen sheets, a small fireplace barely lit. It wasn’t shabby, but it was far from the opulence Elysia had been accustomed to as the princess of Arkendale. And it certainly wasn’t the kind of quarters one would expect for a future queen—unless, of course, the North was facing a rather severe financial crisis. Bu
