The Next Morning
The doors to the council chamber opened, and Zarek walked in.
Aldric followed closely behind him, his presence silent and watchful.
The moment Zarek crossed the threshold, every member of the council rose to their feet. Twelve elders stood in unison, bowing deeply in fear and honour.
"My King." Their voices blended into one.
At the far end, Delilah rose as well.
There was no sign of weakness in her appearance, no hint of the night before. Her hair was perfectly arranged, her posture graceful, her expression composed. She looked nothing like the woman who was begging for her life last night.
But when Zarek saw throne she had stood up from, the one beside his...the one that had remained untouched for centuries, reserved for his soulmate. The irritation that rose in him was immediate, sharp, and difficult to ignore, but it did not show on his face.
