The heavy stone door clicked shut, and with it, the light of Verona's presence vanished from the room. Elric stood in the sudden, suffocating dimness of the Royal Solar, the only sound being the frantic, rhythmic scraping of claws against the blue ice wall Verona had left behind.
The ice groaned. A spiderweb of cracks surged across the crystal as a massive shadow-beast slammed its weight against the barrier. Elric braced his boots against the marble floor, his Northern broadsword humming with a cold, rhythmic energy. He wasn't just fighting for the King anymore; he was buying seconds for the woman who had just looked at him with enough love and terror to burn the world down. He felt the weight of her silver eyes still lingering on his skin, a ghost of a touch that anchored him even as the ceiling above began to rain dust and gold leaf.
The ice shattered.
