Valka
The aisle is an unending path I must walk alone.
The great hall -- though 'hall' no longer feels like the right word for it -- has been reborn into a celestial cathedral. The ceilings have been opened to the night itself, a vast dome of obsidian sky where the stars seem close enough to touch, silver fire polished into the marble beneath my feet. Ivy spills down the pillars like veins of green flame, each leaf tipped in starlight, like a thousand tiny lanterns lighting the world.
There are so many people.
Not just within these walls -- though the galleries swell with royals, nobles, emissaries from the cities I have yet to see -- but beyond them too. Through the open arches, I glimpse the courtyards and streets overflowing with bodies, citizens pressed shoulder to shoulder, all craning for a glimpse of me. Me. The Queen.
