Elara's POV
Later that evening the great hall was full of candlelight. Hundreds of flames burned in iron holders on the walls, in glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, in small groups on every table. The light was warm and golden, almost like magic. It was exactly what the palace workers had been trying to create all day.
I stood at the door, waiting for the call that would tell me to enter. Next to me, Lena fixed the edges of my dress, fixing tiny things no one would ever see.
"You look perfect, Your Majesty," she said softly.
"I feel like I might throw up," I whispered back.
"You have done this before. Big dinners. Important guests. You know what to do."
"Not like this." I took a breath. "This is different."
Before she could say more, the man who calls out names spoke loudly.
"Her Majesty, Queen Elara of Dravara!"
The doors opened wide. I lifted my chin and put on the calm face I had learned to wear since I was a child. Then I walked in.
