The Silent Book, A Queen's Fear

The wind howled through the narrow, cobbled streets of the remote village, carrying with it the scent of woodsmoke and fear. Queen Mirelle, a woman whose beauty was as sharp and cold as shattered ice, surveyed her domain from the balcony of the stark, grey castle. Her silver hair, pulled back tight, emphasized the harsh angles of her face, and her eyes, the color of a winter sky, missed nothing. She wore a gown of deep purple velvet, embroidered with silver thorns, a testament to her iron rule. Below, Elara, a girl no older than ten, clutched a worn, blank book to her chest. Its pages were empty, yet Elara saw worlds within them, worlds born of her own heart. She knew the Queen forbade reading, deemed it a dangerous pastime that filled heads with rebellious thoughts. But Elara couldn't help but cherish the book, a gift from her grandmother. It was a silent promise of untold stories, waiting to be unveiled.