Chapter 110
Astrid's POV
The Grand Hall, a space I had only ever seen prepared for celebration, had transformed into the nerve center of a great, panicked migration. The soaring ceilings, which usually echoed with laughter and music, now held the muffled sounds of quiet fear: the shuffling of feet, the hushed, anxious whispers of parents, the whimpering of tired children overwhelmed by the sudden upheaval of their lives. The air was thick with the smell of damp coats, strong coffee, and the savory, comforting aroma of the chicken soup simmering in massive cauldrons set up by the kitchen staff.
