After recovering from her headache and injuries, Amelia finally became aware of the chaos unfolding around her. So, she stepped forward toward the guards, fixing them with her powerful gaze.
"Can someone explain to me what is going on here?" She asked her final question with such an authoritative tone that there was no room for disagreement.
The guards remained motionless, but the air around them felt heavy, suffocating. Amelia's presence was like a blade pressed against their throats.
They exchanged glances, waiting, almost begging, for one of their companions to take the lead. Yet none of them dared to be the first to speak, and they all remained frozen in place.
The silence dragged on, and Amelia tilted her head slightly, irritated. Her eyes swept across each of the soldiers, studying them, waiting for someone bold enough to break the cowardly hesitation.
"I'm waiting," she said, her voice low, controlled, yet carrying something that made one of the guards swallow hard.
