Ludwig began by informing them of what had occurred back in the palace, though he did so carefully, as if weighing each word before allowing it to leave his mouth. He kept the account restrained, trimmed of excess detail, not because the truth was fragile, but because too much of it at once would only lead to arguments, fear, or reckless conclusions. Even with his restraint, the weight of what he shared settled heavily over the deck of the ship.
The desert stretched endlessly around them, dunes rising and falling like frozen waves. Wind scraped against the hull, hissing through metal seams and carrying grains of sand that stung exposed skin. The ship moved steadily forward, yet the atmosphere aboard felt tense, compressed, as though the air itself had grown thicker.
Ludwig spoke of the Queen.
