The thunderous, echoing cadence of Hebner Grand's heavy leather riding boots snapped through the vast, vaulted expanse of the main hall like a series of clean, deliberate whipcracks. The white marble floor seemed to vibrate beneath the sheer, suffocating gravity of the Sovereign's approach, his robes billowing out behind him like a cloud of fresh, vaporized blood. The dim violet light from the massive chandeliers caught the dangerous, wild fire glittering within his slitted eyes.
Thorn Theodore felt the sudden, cataclysmic shift in the room's temperature before he even heard the footsteps. The air grew instantly frigid, the humid, jasmine-scented fog freezing into invisible needles that pricked at his dark skin.
