The sun bled gold across the sky, casting long, jagged shadows over the Royal Courtyard as nobles and royals gathered—nearly every influential figure in the kingdom present.
A hush rippled through the crowd as He arrived.
Every person stood at once, bowing low. Even the Queen.
"Your Majesty!"
Thalos ascended the highest platform with the slow, deliberate steps of a man who did not need to hurry. He reached his throne and paused, casting a brief, unreadable glance over the bowed sea of heads before settling into his seat. Lycien stood silently at his side, watchful as ever.
Thalos gazed down at the crowd, without a flicker of emotion on his face—until his lips curled faintly.
"I must say," he drawled, "there's something deeply satisfying about seeing all of you like this."
The crowd, thinking this was their cue to rise, hesitated—but froze when he didn't give the command.
