Chapter One: Queen Tessara

The morning light filtered through heavy velvet drapes, casting a muted glow over the ancient stone walls of the palace. The air was thick with silence — the kind that fills a room when years of authority begin to unravel into quiet resignation.

Queen Tessara sat alone in her private chamber, the weight of the crown no longer pressing upon her head, but settling deep in her bones. Her hands, once steady and commanding, now trembled faintly as they rested on the carved arms of her throne.

Outside, the kingdom stirred with the usual bustle of a new day, unaware that their sovereign was preparing to step away from the throne she had borne for more than three decades.

A soft knock interrupted the stillness.

One of her most trusted advisors entered quietly, carrying a stack of parchment and a well-worn quill.

“My queen,” the man said gently, “the documents are ready. The abdication papers. When you are prepared.”

Tessara nodded, her eyes fixed on a distant point beyond the window. The sun hovered low on the horizon, its light fragile, as if reluctant to witness what was to come.

She inhaled slowly, a breath heavy with memory and loss.

The illness — Crown Dimming Syndrome — had crept in like a shadow, stealing the sharpness of her mind and dimming the fierce light that once commanded armies and counseled kings.

She traced a finger lightly along the edge of the parchment, feeling the weight of finality in the delicate paper.

“My time has ended,” she whispered to herself. “The crown no longer belongs to me.”

The advisor stepped forward, waiting patiently.

With a trembling hand, Tessara dipped the quill in ink and pressed her signature onto the page.

The sound was soft but absolute — a quiet surrender to the silence that had grown louder each day.

As the last trace of ink dried, she rose from the throne, feeling the years fall away like dust.

Her reign was over.

But the kingdom would not fall silent.

With slow, measured steps, Queen Tessara walked from the chamber, her heart heavy but resolved.

She was ready to hand the crown — and the weight of the realm — to her daughter, Anita.

The future rested in her hands now.

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