Elynor offers his arm, and Isolde takes it, feeling the strength beneath the fine fabric of his sleeve. As they step into the corridor, the weight of the jewels and the gown becomes more pronounced, the stones pulling at her neck and waist. She inhales the rose-scented air as servants line the walls, bowing as they pass.
"You look every bit a princess," Elynor murmurs as they walk. His thumb moves against her arm in a slow, steady rhythm. "Even more so now that you know it." She glances up at him, at the way his jaw tenses slightly as he surveys the hall perhaps he is more nervous than he is letting on.
"It's now or never." She mutters under her breath, they continue to walk quietly each step filling her with dread. Isolde strains her hearing the closer the get to the entrance ceremony she can hear the muffled noise of music and fanfare, the grand doors loom ahead, flanked by guards in gilded armor. The court murmurs behind them, the sound like distant waves.
