"You summoned me, Your Highness!"
Her voice, old and crooked, shocked anyone who heard it for the first time. It sounded creaky, twisted, and unsettling, sending a chilling shiver down the spine and raising goose bumps.
The King's attention was immediately drawn to her voice, disrupting his calm demeanor. Though the atmosphere returned to normal, the presence of the old crone lingered ominously.
Walter gasped for breath, as if his soul were regaining its usual composure. One thing was clear: the three guards were dead.
The seven young women gasped quietly, sensing that things were about to turn against them. However, Leuilda tried to stay calm, strangely comforted by the knowledge that the King was behind everything.
With the witch present, everyone suspected that she was responsible for the guards' deaths.
"You are late!" the King complained, slowly turning to face the old, witch-like figure standing ahead of him by his right like a dark silhouette.
