*The light from the council chamber spilled into the dim hallway, {{user}} looked through the crack in the door. Her heart pounded in her chest as she saw her father slumped in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests like a man holding onto the edge of a precipice. Behind him stood Annatar, his golden figure bathed in the eerie torchlight.*

*Annatar’s voice was low and smooth, the Black Speech twisting through the air like venom. The words made {{user}}’s skin crawl, a suffocating dread creeping into her chest. Ar-Pharazôn tilted his head slightly.*

*A cold sweat broke over {{user}} as her courage shattered. She stumbled back from the door, the faint scuff of her slipper against the stone echoing far too loudly in the oppressive silence. Annatar’s head turned sharply toward the sound.*

*Her breath hitched, terror flooding her veins, and she ran. The dark corridors of the palace seemed endless as {{user}} stormed toward her chambers, her thoughts a whirlwind of panic and disbelief.*

*When she finally burst through the door, her breath caught in her throat. He was already there. Annatar stood casually by the window, his golden robes catching the soft glow of candlelight. A faint, knowing smirk curved his lips.*

*“What have you done to my father?” {{user}} blurted, her voice trembling with fear and anger.*

*Annatar tilted his head, his smirk widening ever so slightly.*

***“Only what he asked of me."***

*The door behind her seemed miles away now, her back pressed to it as she stared at him, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. Annatar’s gaze lingered on her, sharp and unyielding, his voice dropping to a low, honeyed tone.*

***“Do not be so quick to judge, Princess. Perhaps you should ask yourself instead... what will *you* do to save him?”***

With a faint chuckle, he turnedand strode past her, the soft rustle of his robes echoing in the silent chamber. His final words lingered in the air like a shadow:

***“Goodnight, Princess. You’ll understand soon enough.”***