I walk into the grand meeting room without changing, without fixing my hair—still wearing yesterday's clothes.
And yet, I carry myself with the full authority of the Dragon's Equal.
The heavy doors groan as they swing open, and the atmosphere in the room shifts instantly. Hundreds of eyes snap toward me.
I see Lucian, his face turning a shade paler; their Majesties, whose composure nearly cracks at the sight of me; and the high sovereigns and noble houses of both the Elvanyr Dominion and the Empire. The silence is absolute, broken only by the rhythmic click of my boots on the polished marble.
"My apologies for being late," I say, my voice steady and clear as I step forward into the center of the hall.
The nobles reflexively begin to rise from their seats to offer a formal greeting, but I raise my hand in a sharp, dismissive gesture. They freeze, half-standing, before slowly sinking back into their chairs under my gaze.
