'All of this place, in the morning, is colder than I imagined.'
Ryan's gloved fingers sank slowly into the thick stone armrests of his new seat as he observed the gigantic hall with a highly critical level of detail. The frigid northern air seeped faintly through the ventilation shafts, chilling the atmosphere of the newly created castle.
'The design of this throne room was left in the hands of the elves. Helen was quite insistent on participating in the decorations, but almost all of her ideas were omitted—she even intended for there to be a statue with my face. The absurd thing is that the rest of the party supported that idea too, which I refused. If I hadn't been here, I can't imagine what else they would have planned.'
Ryan let out a faint, invisible sigh and cast his cold, analytical gaze across every corner of the majestic hall that now belonged to him.
