"Welcome to my humble kingdom, Queen Lucy Rature," King Valemir Granger spoke, his voice deep and smooth.
The King of the Crescent Kingdom was no meek monarch. Towering at 6'2", Valemir carried the weight of royalty and war alike. His silver-white beard was trimmed with precision, matching the regal sweep of his back-slicked hair. His physique was that of a man who had once led charges through blizzards and blood—broad-shouldered and solid. And a white-gold crown rested upon his brow.
Lucy stood slightly, a subtle incline of her frame—respectful, but far from submissive. "The honor is mine, King and Queen Granger," she replied, her voice cool as mountain wind.
Beside Valemir sat Queen Elanora Granger—the mirror of elegance and the source of Princess Sheila's captivating beauty. Her snow-white hair framed those piercing blue eyes that ran through the family like legacy etched in frost.
"It's been a long time, Lucy," Elanora said softly, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
