The throne room was silent except for the occasional tap of her finger on the armchair. The council sat on their designated seats, their gazes directed to the door.
Anticipation hung in the air as they all waited. Atheline's gaze never left the door.
Regulated footsteps were the first sounds to reach them, then the throne room doors were pushed open.
A soft current of aether was the first to sip in, distinctive to the high elves. It brushed against the walls as though welcoming itself.
They entered the hall in measured steps, otherworldly in a way that commanded attention without any effort.
Atheline could feel his heart rate spike for just a moment, when his gaze swept across the group seeing familiar people.
At the forefront walked his older brother, expression serene as he led the group down the walkway to the throne. He was dressed in glimmering robes that caught the light with each movement.
