She was drawing a complex, glowing runic circle on the floor near the balcony, using a piece of alchemically infused chalk. Her movements were sharp, precise, and entirely devoid of human hesitation. The air in the room was already growing freezing cold, a thick, unnatural frost beginning to creep up the edges of the stained-glass windows.
"The necrotic poison is tied to my nervous system," Elara explained without looking up, putting the final stroke on the rune. The circle immediately flared with a dull, heavy silver light. "To siphon it, your magical core must directly link with mine. The transfer requires absolute proximity and zero magical resistance."
She stood up, brushing the chalk dust from her hands. She was wearing a simple, sleeveless white silk shift, her usually immaculate silver hair falling loosely around her shoulders. She looked impossibly fragile, but the aura radiating from her was terrifyingly dense.
"Step into the circle, Prince Consort," Elara commanded.
