The gentle swaying of the wisteria blooms was the sole motion within the pavilion. Elysia remained perfectly still, her golden eyes intently focused on the location where Nero had previously stood. The atmosphere continued to resonate with the diminishing echoes of his declaration and the residual crackling of her own lightning.
Gradually, the shadow adjacent to one of the fractured columns intensified and then merged into a single form. A figure knelt there, bereft of features and silent, its shape absorbing the surrounding light. This was her personal guardian, a wraith bound to the Raizen bloodline.
"Mistress," its voice was a dry rustling, reminiscent of dead leaves skittering over stones. "Shall I intervene? His disrespect cannot be tolerated."
