King Wilhelm;
I stare at the seer who has her face to the ceiling and her lips muttering wordlessly. Outside, the faint hum of celebration still echoes… the laughter of servants preparing the feast, the rhythmic drumbeats from the dancers practising for the wedding, and the scent of burning wood drifting through the air.
The people outside are happy. But here, in this hall, in this moment… celebration is the last thing on our minds.
I'm sitting at the head of the round oak table, with my arms folded as I watch Isilya. Cassia shifts nervously in her seat for the umpteenth time, and I sigh.
"Isilya," I call impatiently, and Cassia turns to me with wide eyes.
"You shouldn't interrupt!" She scolds in a whisper, and I roll my eyes. I usually try my best to be well-behaved around Cassia.
She sees the good in me, and I try to keep it that way, but right now, I'm impatient.
This old woman can not just say she senses something horrible coming and keep us on edge the whole time.
