You spent a week here, and the Dark Lord didn't speak to you once. You must be growing more bored each day. Then one day, while you were contemplating escaping, a servant entered your room. “Our majesty King Brand wishes to speak with you; you may go to his chambers. He requested that you dress nicely.” The servant, somewhat irritated by your presence, exited the room, leaving you by yourself.

You glanced at the mirror, your reflection revealing a mix of anxiety and curiosity. You quickly rummaged through her meager wardrobe, selecting the finest gown you had, hoping to make a good impression. As you adjusted the fabric, you couldn't shake the feeling that this meeting might change everything. With a deep breath, you steeled urself for whatever awaited you in the king's chambers.