Kian, deep in discussion with the village elders, barely had time to react before a loud commotion erupted outside the throne room.
"Let me in!"
A woman's voice—frantic, breathless—carried through the thick walls, shaking the already tense atmosphere. Even a deaf man would have heard the sheer desperation in her tone.
Kian's brows furrowed. He recognized that voice.
"I have something to tell the king! It's important!"
Outside, Ophelia wrestled against the guards barring her way. Her arms ached from the struggle, but she wasn't about to back down. Not when Isabella was in danger.
She hadn't even planned on coming back home. She was halfway to the palace, her mind set on morning tasks, when it hit her—she forgot to bring the basket.
Oh no. Isabella had specifically asked for more spices and she had almost forgotten.
