A sudden, violent pounding at the door shattered the thread of his dark thoughts—knocks so aggressive they seemed to demand entry regardless of the room's occupant.
Silver advanced with calm, unbothered steps and swung the door open, only to find the very man who had been trembling with dread mere hours ago now standing before him, draped in a coat of fabricated pride. Silver arched a brow with a cold, playful indifference. "Oh... greetings, Your Majesty, King Julian."
Julian barged into the room in a silent invasion, entirely ignoring the greeting. As his boots clicked against the stone, he subtly raised his hand, tracing a faint, shimmering glyph in the air.
He then swept his eyes across the space with a condescending sneer, muttering, "Hmm... a rather fine and comfortable room for a mere jester."
