When the guards opened the grand oak doors per Gerold's request, everyone inside had their eyes fixed on me. Not that it was surprising. It was a natural instinct for people to turn their attention to the source of the noise. The double doors were large and heavy, giving a loud squeak upon opening.
"Go on," Gerold nudged my elbow, signaling me to go in first.
I walked inside with my head held high, ignoring the piercing gazes of people in the room as I passed by. My only attention was on Valdemir, who sat on the throne in his well-embellished tunic with gold-work thread, a white silk surcoat, black pants, and a burgundy cloak. The golden crown and wolf mask on his face empowered his majestic look.
He truly deserves to be the king, said a voice inside my head. His demeanor, his power,
