It was the ancient, golden relic of the founding Emperor. The very thing that had been stolen from the Royal Treasury Weeks ago.
The knights at the corners of the room went into high alert, their hands white-knuckled on their hilts.
Why wouldn't they? They knew very well that the scepter had been missing and, of course, knew that it had been stolen by a certain thief with black hair. Well, here was a man with black hair, holding up the same scepter that had been stolen.
"The Seventh Sun is getting dim, don't you think?" Julian mused, holding the relic up so the light of the chandeliers danced off its forbidden surface. "To lose the very symbol of your right to rule…" his lips twisted in satisfied mockery. "...how careless."
High on the dais, Aurelian stood up. His face had twisted with cold fury, but beneath it, his golden eyes were wide with a burgeoning, sick realization.
This wasn't the man he had toyed with. This wasn't Julian.
