Her father, Azarion Flameborne, strode forward with the unhurried arrogance of a man who had never been denied entry to any hall in his life.
His cloak of crimson and black rippled behind him like a moving flame, each step deliberate, measured. Golden eyes swept across the Hall of Balance.....not in greeting, but in appraisal. The lords seated in their semicircle were not his peers in this moment; they were pieces on a board he intended to win.
To his left walked Aldric Flameborne, his son...tall, broad-shouldered, his jaw tight. Every inch of him was a warrior, and every step screamed vigilance. He didn't just walk beside his family—he shielded them.
Behind them came Aurelia.
Each footstep echoed faintly in the marble chamber, yet in her mind it was deafening. Beneath her veil and heavy cloak, she kept her chin high, though the weight of every stare pressed like an invisible hand against the back of her neck.
