It was time for the Snake King to sleep.
The entire family, save for Zarek, whose massive draconic silhouette was still absent, lost somewhere in the freezing Northern tree line, stood gathered in the grand eastern corridor. They formed a quiet, solemn semicircle before the towering doors of Syris's private chambers.
Syris stood at the threshold, holding little Tanith securely against his hip. The Snake King had completely shed his usual lightweight silks, draped instead in heavy, thick robes of deep emerald velvet. His flawless, elegant face was unusually pale, and his vibrant green eyes were already beginning to dilate, the pupils narrowing into sharp, vertical slits as his cold-blooded instincts actively fought the freezing air.
