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1906 Words

Melissa Spatiatis. “They’re here!” A resounding chorus comes from the guards outside the throne room and everyone in begins to whisper. Tension is static in the air. I have never seen Dimitrio like this before. His expression is in form of granite with eyes like storm clouds, he stands frozen amidst the throng. His gaze, usually a steely silver continuously flickers between me and the entrance. Whispers that sound like nervous wind passing through dry leaves rises in the assembled court. The king’s ministers, his generals, including Beswick, the one who brought my feet to the castle and ministers are present in the room. I straighten my back, knowing that in a matter of seconds, I would be seeing Queen Lupita—the one who threatened me back at the banquet. I should be confident. I should

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