AEVAMORRA VYRACARUM — THRONE ROOM — DEEP NIGHT
The portal tore open in the center of the throne room and Serena stepped through it wearing a training suit and carrying a bow. Aeron stepped through behind her.
The throne room was empty. Sconces burned low along the walls, casting long shadows across the ice-carved pillars. The city beyond the windows was quiet, the particular quiet of a kingdom at rest, its streets dark, its dragons perched and sleeping along rooftops that glittered with frost under a sky full of stars.
She stood in the center of the room and waited. She did not sit. She did not pace. She stood the way she had stood the first time she entered this chamber, spine straight, bow at her side, composure intact despite the fact that her hands were shaking and her reserves were running low and a fleet of corrupted dragons was bearing down on two kingdoms that belonged to her.
