CRASH!
The porcelain cup slipped right out of Etien's hand and shattered across the floor as a monstrous rumble tore through the solid marble beneath his feet.
His bright violet eyes flashed, sharp as knives, while the thunder kept rolling through the floor. It felt like an earthquake, just not strong enough to bring the mansion down. It was plenty strong enough to shake loose the chalk dust and the carved baroque woodwork, though, and send it all crumbling and swirling through the air like a thin summer drizzle.
"What in the world is going on?!" he muttered, barely believing it.
The nobles sent by the palace were in full panic. One of them had been thrown flat on his back, groaning, while the rest clutched their swords with the kind of terror you can't fake. Finala herself was clinging for dear life to the crystal chandelier on the ceiling. Her little claws scraped the glass, her tiny wings trembled, and she let out a squeaky, rattled chirp like a frightened mouse.
