In the shadowed grandeur of the Valachia Royal Castle, Rucain sat back in the high, blackened throne usually reserved for the King himself.
It was not truly his seat to claim — the real power belonged to the Vampire Witch — but in her absence, Rucain handled the kingdom's affairs as if they were his own.
Before him, the great hall stretched out. Several knights stood in neat formation. At the head of their ranks stood Daleliah.
"Lakalros has been defeated, you say?" Rucain asked.
Daleliah didn't hesitate. "He has been. Someone named Mael did it."
Rucain's expression barely shifted — just the smallest widening of his eyes.
"Mael, you say? Describe his appearance."
"White hair, amber eyes," she said. "He also… took Amaya with him."
For a moment, the air itself seemed to drop in temperature. Rucain's gaze sharpened into a cold glare.
"That," he said softly, "is extremely displeasing news."
