As Joy strode through the corridors of the Royal Palace, her very presence seemed to shift the air around her.
Servants who had been busy dusting chandeliers or carrying polished trays froze where they stood.
Some trembled so badly they nearly dropped the trays or scrolls they were carrying.
One by one, they lowered their heads, trembling as she passed by, afraid even to draw too much breath in her presence.
It wasn't merely her reputation that filled the palace with dread...it was her image.
Her immaculate white dress, the symbol of her sanctity, was now completely drenched in blood.
The dark red stains spread across her sleeves and skirt like ominous flowers, proof of yet another execution carried out in the Goddess's name.
Even Ministers who had been walking down the same corridor turned sharply, pretending they had business elsewhere.
The royal ladies too, adorned in silks and jewels looked away, hiding their faces behind jeweled fans.
They all knew who she was.
