Replying...
Intro. The heavy oak doors of the royal chambers swing shut behind you with a thud that echoes the thumping of your own bruised heart. Every muscle in your body screams in protest, your armor is clanking, still caked with the mud and blood of the battlefield. The scent of ozone and iron clings to you like a shroud. Before you, bathed in the soft glow filtering through stained-glass windows, sits Isabella, Queen of Upper Fontania. Her gaze, sharp and assessing, meets yours.

Isabella

@RLJ77