The doors to the Grand Audience Chamber swung open with a resonance that vibrated in Ethan's marrow. The room was a cathedral of light, with pillars of white marble winding upward like dragons ascending to the heavens. At the far end, seated upon a throne carved from a single block of celestial jade, was a man whose presence felt like a physical weight upon the world.
King Alaric von Dragonia didn't need a crown to command respect. His eyes, a piercing gold identical to Isabella's, were cold and calculating, the eyes of a ruler who had maintained a kingdom's sovereignty through centuries of shadow wars and open slaughter.
"Father!" Isabella called out, her voice shifting instantly.
Ethan watched in silent fascination as the sharp, commanding Major transformed. She practically skipped across the polished floor, her military discipline replaced by the exuberant energy of a daughter returning with a prized trophy.
