THE LUNA'S ECLIPSE
she said, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable weight.
And then, she looked straight at me.
"If I’m not wrong, you have a son who is past the age of eighteen," she stated, her confidence unwavering.
I tensed.
She was talking about me.
The queen—the Riven Adams—was addressing me.
For a brief moment, I was starstruck.
"Uh—yes, I do," my father responded, clearly caught off guard. He hesitated, as if debating where this conversation was heading. "He is here. Magnar."
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