The halls of the castle were eerily quiet, the tension of the past twenty-four hours still lingering in the air. A lone messenger made his way toward Princess Regina's quarters, his steps light, his movements careful.
Regina was seated at her desk, poring over documents, checking the lists of gifts and titles that were to be distributed at the ball. A single candle burned beside her, casting a soft glow over her face. Her quill scratched against the parchment, precise and controlled, but her mind was elsewhere.
A soft knock on her door made her look up.
"Enter," she said.
The door creaked open, and the messenger slipped inside, his expression grave. He bowed deeply before stepping closer, lowering his voice into a whisper.
Regina's hand stilled. Her fingers, once relaxed, curled sligh
