The council chamber of Draco did not tolerate disorder nor uncertainty.
It was built for authority—stone carved to intimidate, space designed to silence doubt before it could take form.
The obsidian table at its center stretched long and imposing, its polished surface reflecting the flicker of unmoving flames that burned along the walls.
It was where decisions that shaped kingdoms were made.
Nothing within those walls was ever uncertain.
Everything in that room had purpose.
Everything obeyed structure.
Until the doors opened.
The sound alone shifted the air.
Queen Mother Valeriana Dracovar entered without announcement.
Her presence cutting cleanly through the rising tension that had already begun to coil within the chamber.
Conversations died mid-sentence.
Chairs scraped softly against stone as every council member rose instinctively.
No one remained seated when she walked in.
