[ELARA]
The crowd in the palace courtyard forms a restless sea of faces, each etched with curiosity and grim anticipation. I stand at a distance beneath a stall roof reserved for the royal family's viewing of executions, should they choose to attend. At my side is Magnus, his shoulders tense, lips sealed in anger. He clenches and unclenches his fists repeatedly, struggling to maintain composure.
Silent, he stares straight ahead, fixated on the gray stone slab where Morgana will meet her fate today. As the hour approaches, the crowd's murmurs fade into tense silence. The creak of scaffold steps draws my attention, and I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of the condemned woman being led forward. My breath catches as I recognize Morgana, once a woman of strong will and sharp intellect, now r
