Asher turned, his gaze hardening as his golden eyes narrowed on a lone figure standing just where he had entered from. The moonlight barely reached him, but even through shadow, his presence was unmistakable. The man's gray hair shimmered with age and pride, his eyes a gold so intense they seemed carved from sunlight itself. He stood tall, arms crossed, radiating a quiet authority that didn't need announcing.
Aside from Asher and Zenas, all others had been dismissed, sent away in silent reverence, because the man who had arrived was no ordinary Ashbourne.
He was Zanoah.
Firstborn of Zenas.
The prodigy exiled.
A man whom time had not weakened, whose reputation had never faded. Said to be even more gifted than his father, Zanoah embodied the full might and potential of the Ashbourne bloodline. But politics, twisted and ancient, had turned against him.
