CHAPTER ELEVEN

The room was bathed in a soft glow as Gryvia, the banished widow, entered with a quiet grace. Her long grey hair cascaded down her back, and her wise eyes carried the weight of years gone by. She wore a simple gown, yet there was an air of majesty that surrounded her, as if the forest itself recognized her as its guardian.

"Your Highness," she greeted the young prince respectfully, inclining her head. "Iana, would you please prepare a bath once he's done with breakfast, so we can redress his wounds and he can return home. The entire palace will be searching for him soon; he must not be found missing."

"Yes, mother," Iana replied obediently, her silver eyes glancing between her mother and the prince.

While Iana went to prepare the bath, Gryvia turned her attention to the prince, her expression grave yet compassionate. "I have no idea why you came into this forest, but for the sake of peace and safety, I implore you not to return. You are lucky that Iana was there to save you."

Prince E